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Sex Forum Sex forum for the Underground Sex Club. Before A Midsummer Night's Dream Before A Midsummer Night's Dream · Interracial Love · Memories are important to me, specifically the good ones. I would concur that it's the small things one does during their lifetime that are going to be the most impactful on them when they go back to cherish. In my 25 years, I've tried to make as many of these little moments for myself as possible. I hope to continue doing so. As I circumvent the cobwebs and flip the grimy pages in the convolution that is my brain, I still recall a balmy Friday afternoon during the summer of '14. There have been many days around here where the climate could make it feel exactly like so. Though reiterating: The minutiae of details which were taking place during that day are what I think a person can treasure the most. Even if specifics become lost, they may blend and be a larger whole after a time. Speaking for myself, I now see the sun shining on that day more than I'd cared to notice then. I turned 19 that May. My self-confidence had been improving along with what amount was already there from the time I'd graduated from high school. I did so with the Class of 2012. I was on a tight leash that was loosened by my parents for the remaining year of my minority. They removed the leash when I became an adult by law the year later. I had finally escaped the austerity enforced in my orthodox household during my upbringing, and in lieu, set out with the intention to experience and to make myself happy. To think less of what was expected of me by those who play God, and more of my perennial passions. I'd recognized my flaws. I've never stated to anyone that I'm a good person. Never. But I felt that helping other people would be helping me; what else can we do? I pondered on a medical field or social work — and a steady source of income, of course. I knew this was going to be a tremendous undertaking, but I was adamant when I set my mind to something important to me. I'd been told so by teachers — people of authority outside the homestead. A university accepted me. It required a distanced move several hours away. I would have to do this on my own without support or enthusiasm from my family. Yes, I was frightened; I don't blame myself. But this was what it took — to overcome my dread and doubt while bearing in mind my goals, which I purposely left petty and superfluous so they would be feasible to complete and not damage me from unexpected failure to fulfill them. By my pragmatic, if not sardonic philosophies by default, expecting good things to happen in this world's rocky landscape leads to disappointment in many cases. Maybe then I wasn't aware of this factuality, but I am now. I recognize. I stop to think about those without. The body I am in, the innocent lusts I have, the blessings bestowed to me by God are all good things, so long as I humble myself and take heed to what I know to be right. They will not be denied by me, rejected by me, or taken for granted, as often as I can remind myself. As contradictory and ironic as the following account will seem, I'm only human, none of which is perfect, all of which is pardoned. II I always knew what the passions and lusts aforementioned were. They seemed like untapped and beautiful things that escaped my domineering nature of cynicism and restraint. Even early on in my childhood, I was inquisitive; whatever was there had always been a part of me. I could not, or rather, was forbidden to act on any carnal urges — rightfully so, since I was only a child. Yet, with all the boundaries and restrictions and doctrines of what is “Right” and what is “Wrong” firmly implanted, there was exposure to so many sexual contexts and innuendos, nonetheless — not only that but other discretions that a young girl should not be allowed to eavesdrop on. I was being informed well before my sanctioned time by three older siblings and made fully aware of how things plied. My brothers had no capacity for complex emotions such as concepts of morality or guilt — a typical encounter for me then. They did not care. They brought their rambunctious peers for visits while Dad would work around the clock, Mom would drink her gin and tonic, and I'd impinge on their misdeeds. Why did my dad ignore me? It bothered me more than he knew and would affect me down the trail. Why did my mom harbor such an indefensible hatred towards me? Was there something in me that she saw in herself, or was it merely me, having been the “accidental” fourth? The two live-in grandparents, who were Dad's parents, just made everything that much more awkward and unbearable. Why go into it? No more time should be wasted dwelling on any of them; the less, the better. I could not breathe in that household. In any case, it wasn't much different around my contemporaries. Only, I'd be the one to refute classmates' naive banter and false notions by having known it all in advance when sat down in sex-ed, courtesy of three dick-headed and repugnant siblings with age and primacy on their side. It was a stark contrast when compared to the ridicule I would languish in the home, having not known jack shit when gunned down by a belligerent firstborn, ten years older than me. Sex is so ubiquitous that it's just impossible to avoid anymore — if it ever was possible to avoid it — especially with my level of drive. In one way or another, everything will pertain to it unless a prude, which I am certainly not. I was innately fascinated by it. I asked harmless questions. Why did my bros have to be so mean about it? I'm not having any self-pity here; this is only an explanation of what life was like during my childhood and growing up in my family — a veritable psychiatric field day. My clusterfuck of a house demanded a 1955 mindset, regardless of whatever was going on behind closed doors. Mommy and Daddy never sat me down for a tête-à-tête about birds and the bees, or anything else for that matter. My parents and grandparents would force their lectures on love but never practiced it themselves or set an example. And I mean the sum of what love's supposed to be like, what I understood it should be like, not just the sexual elements that intrigued me the most. This hypocrisy angered me. What the fuck was this? Love — it is all I wanted to feel but was unable to receive it by any means there. After all that the abstinence had cost me through puberty, I planned to change things for myself by finding love elsewhere, and I would demand nothing in return for it. III Work was almost out on that sunny day sometime in June. I'd been interning in several hospitals and facilities while I studied for a planned degree in pharmacology. As the end of my stint approached, I thought more of my plans for that nightfall and how to pull them off to perfection. These non-sequitur thoughts were unsuited for any run-of-the-mill and holier-than-thou work ethic. They flew around with the rest of the hustle and bustle incessantly going on up there that I would do anything, short of opting out, to mitigate. They made me fidget in my seat, causing my muscles to tense and my breathing to fluctuate. To only exacerbate my uneasiness and anxiety, an inbound text message had arrived from my newfound friend, Naomi. I don't recall precise words, but I'd guess something along the fringes of, “Are you going out for scalps later?” Over the years I've known her, she'd often refer to my newly acquired boons as “scalps,” or in another form of acrimony which — coming from how endearing and friendly she was — would still put it lighter than I was in my behavior towards most of those poor kids. I was coming out from an inferno of juvenile years that were indeed affecting both me and my surroundings. I regret it now; I do. I've hurt; yes, I have. Naomi's perspectives and definitions of propriety were different from mine — ones I frequently envied. I'd met her for the first time in January of that year. She'd been a neighbor when I decided to get out of the dorm and rent something instead. I was still 18 then, and she had six years on me at her 24. From my first impression, she did not seem to carry any hint of whatever constitutes a Child left in her at all. She was self-governing, incorrigible in her mold, and who she distinguished herself as — no one would be changing her mind. I admired those aspects and sensed genuine wisdom in this chick. Naomi quickly became a close friend to me, as I'd moved hours from my home and knew no one in this sprawling and daunting megalopolis beforehand. She saw my electrons and only confuted them with her more overbearing protons. I learned that it was only futility to be anything other than happy and amiable around her. I grew up with antonyms of joy. She had an overwhelming ardor I'd not spent ample time with before. I eventually opened up to her about my past. My kitsch is considered old-school, old-fashioned, and I have no problem with that. In an age of social media, I may have — or I may not have — a different definition than bulks do of what a friend is and who gets placed on the 'Friends List.' It's a close circle, and in effect, a small list that is pretty damn important to me. I consider Naomi to be one of the people on said list. I mention her extensively because she became a pillar that supported my happiness. Her impeccable judgment regarding getting the most out of what this life had to reward me was never questioned or depreciated. I was indebted to her. By that point, I had possessed what the forms of those rewards were continually able to come in, allusive pun intended. I was already being made aware of the effortless perfection in which my soul resided. I made efforts anyhow — if only to maintain my temple. I went out of the way to run miles every day during the week. I was only continuing what I'd been doing as a form of escapism since junior high. I had myself conditioned to the point of feeling like I could keep on figuratively running away from my troubles in perpetuity. I loved it like an addiction — “Runner's High,” they call it. It made me feel sexy. People — suspected to be in the same frame of mind as me, e.g., 'on the hunt' — would look at me as I went past them in my own made world, where the cosmos centered around the area where the middle of my foot would connect to the asphalt. I caught many gotten glances from the corners of my eyes, which I consider dark and intimidating. If I did lock my formidable gaze with the odd pedestrian on my cool-down period, nine out of ten times, I'd cause them to glance off in another direction as swiftly as they could. Any place that didn't involve the prerequisite set of balls it takes to meet my peep, continue inwards, and break my barriers. However, the tenth time consisted of those sure enough of themselves to take a plunge and brave a journey into my complex irides intent to burn away any veil in theirs. Destinations varied. I would arrive home to my leased residence in a cold sweat and dampened clothes to undress for a hot shower in a ritualistic manner. The release from the confinements of my sports bra only made me feel like I could breathe the more so. As I poured out of the nylon stitching, my breasts would instantaneously settle back into their rightful perky place and be permitted to jut from my chest in freedom, just as God had intended for Eve's to do so before the Fall. I shimmied myself out of what thin fabrics remained on the lower portion of my framework — hips and all that is divine between my legs were revealed to me, reminding me of my luck again. I knew what I saw in the mirror's reflection; I was not blind to a familiar sight. I eyed my curves and contours and the landing strip I regularly like to rock on my mound. It was abundantly clear what I was beholding: I was the quintessential woman who could have anything she fancied. It was entirely my choice to ditch the conviction and despair I suffered through adolescence and enjoy being in my niche instead. What a hedonist I was. I would undo the knotted bun resting atop my head to let my blackened hair fall past my shoulders and onto my skin. I could detect a familiar and intoxicating fragrance in each of the strands. The moisture and scent from having pounded on the pavement not long before would also be in the air. It would mix with lingering aromas from whatever perfumes I'd sprayed in it from that morn. They joined with the traces of shampoo and conditioner from the previous night. The amalgamation became a tang of raw Sexual Energy that cannot be withstood or further described without the risk of raving. A lot can happen in a bathroom before a shower. In times like 'in front of the mirror after a run,' I feel an aura surrounding me. I see myself in my purest and most vulnerable form as my damp and weighted tresses brushed against tender bits. Naked and battling with an abiding lust, found in spiritual sectors that cannot be labeled by anatomy, I would do things to myself in front of these mirrors — I'd been doing so in secrecy for quite a while. I would explore places, touch parts, and imagine my empty spaces made occupied by things I was, in my infancy, only able to catch glimpses and then lose sight of, left to have them in my dreams. Later on, I would see them but never be allowed to feel them in my presence. These dreams became increasingly vivid. But by that summer in '14, the need for imagination and improvisation was no longer necessary. I had felt the sensation of a cock pressing into my flesh and was able to say so. Even if a phantom in my time of solitude, I oft feel nerves on zones inside me where I want the head to bear the brunt of its punishment most of all and induce the climacteric point of no return. In these moments, I cast aside whatever piety and temperance I have over myself and realize how bad I need fucked. My cock craving would arrive in times as such — the times that were so commonly encountered during weeks consisting of long days with nil opportunity to sate my needs and cause the build-up and frustration to become that much more acute. These times called for me to do something about it. They bring me back to the Friday reminisced on, the reply to my friend's question, and whatever lucky guy — the emblematic scalp — would get his chance to serve as this completion for me as the five days of absence waned, and the weekend drew nearer. IV I replied to Naomi; asked her if she knew where I could go to make this happen. She had lived in the City all her life and was a social animal. It amazed me how she could throw names and addresses at me at the drop of a hat — any place where something was going down. It wasn't long after that when she told me, “Go here,” gave me the deets and coordinates, and wished me well. I planned to brave it alone that night since I was working some distance from home. More and more routinely, I found myself still out, waking up in strangers' beds and being gone even well into the next day. It was becoming a custom for me to be prepared for this to happen. I would keep clothes in my car, influenced by whatever vogue was going on; lots of clothes. I kept stocked on survival essentials, too, i.e., food and drink — mainly trail mixes and bottled water. I had plenty of cosmetic and hygienic supplies to maintain my beauty and preserve my health. I could do work while sitting in the car if obligated. If I needed sleep, it was trivial enough to recline the seat. I was able to be out and about more by these means. Staying or fleeing a scene was all contingent upon how it was and the vibes I was feeling. After I got out of the job, I went to find the park I'd been using to run laps during that week. Though, today, I would run only to a point where I'd not work up so much fatigue and make a sweaty mess of myself — which, with my stamina, took some work. From what I remember, it was supposed to be an open house slated for six o'clock or so — a later part of the evening. It would be no more than a fifteen-minute drive from where I was. I had plenty of time. Also, I liked to show up late at these things. Exercising was not only delightful to me but my way of cleansing the deed through its health benefits. It was my absolution from whatever substances and sordid activities I would undoubtedly be indulging in. During those years, I spent time playing dress-up in my vehicle. I'd strip out of my work attire and into sports gear for my runs. Then I would return and swap back into something suitable for whatever I'd be doing after that. In many instances, I would be within plain view as I was changing in the car. In retrospect, I'm surprised I don't need neck surgery as a result of how much surveying I was doing while I switched outfits to see if I was being ogled at by some perv. I told myself nobody saw me making a nouveau riche bimbo out of herself, but maybe I was, in my subconscious, wishing someone had. Perhaps someone did see me once or twice, but that's another story. My black Honda Accord was like a home for me, pillow in the back and all. If push came to shove, I kenned I could always go to my car and nap there in safety. Unless close, there was no reason for me to drive back home. I could be spending that time doing something productive or heading towards something that made me feel good instead. I was being taught different things now; to love myself and cease in the denial of loving it. I wasted none of what coupled youth and adulthood instigated. At 19, I was milking these advocations for everything they were worth, although I never wavered from my own beliefs; my Faith. Love is at the center of it; the rest is redundant to me. With that in mind, I arrived back after I had concluded my jog. I always felt carefree and sensuous after the fact, being glad it was done and feeling much healthier. I threw something on and freshened up. I wanted myself as flaunted and sultry as possible, sparing no expense or giving any pretense as to what I would be looking for at this shindig. I made sure not to hold back on Chanel and L'Oréal and make my hair as liberated, salacious, and untamed as possible. I swallowed whatever lurking fret there was and brushed aside whatever bullshit second thoughts I had, then ignited the engine to hear the radio blasting A Sky Full of Stars by Coldplay. I remember it. V It was dusk when I got there. I parked a reasonable distance away on the curb and walked to the address Naomi gave me. A driveway went up for a bit that led me to a two-story home that looked to be an upper-middle-class sort of place. There was activity going on. Lots of people were there; I was not counting. The age group appeared anywhere between their teens like me, into their early thirties. I could walk right in and assimilate myself without anyone noticing, and I was all right with that. I figured most of it was going on in the backyard. There was a lot of landscaping around the front and a fence, so I had to go through the front door to get there, which was wide open. It seemed warm and stuffy when I stepped in, especially for the intermingling Latin blood running hot in my veins. The lights were down; I recall candlelight. I remember the usual smells of food and spirits. The familiar odor of marijuana was also in the air. I was 19 and very much underage, doing something I knew was not allowed, as if I was going to let that deter me. A blond-haired mistress I did not know walked up and hugged me. She said some indistinct things I don't remember now. She might have been the owner of the house since she was a bit older. Whoever she was, she looked to be well on her way, like she had taken something. I wasn't sure what was going on yet. I could not hear her, either. It was loud in there, enough to make a girl go deaf with the proper soundtrack going. People were yelling over each other as the typical EDM and pop music blasted on a stereo system. Music is at the epicenter of a good party. There have to be good tunes to have a good party, in my opinion. Of course, I did not expect to hear anything underground, abrasive, or hardcore, like a gabber at their rave or mosher in their pit. But the night was young, and so was I. At 19, a bit of what I knew was passed vicariously through the older folks I was becoming acquainted with — my friend Naomi was one of them. And her being 24, a sophisticated and diverse individual, they only got older from there. She was regularly around people in their thirties and upwards, back to when parties were happening in the '00s, '90s, and '80s. I hear they were tumultuous times, and Naomi had been exposing me to those capable of saying they were there. The only way to be there was to be there. They carried no smartphones back then, nor did they need them. Technology did not matter since it did not exist. It was the memory and the moment, nothing more. Whatever knowledge was in my academics and studies did nada for me while I was subject to those circumstances. What many of them attained was my definition of wisdom — having lived on Earth longer than me. Which is to say, they had witnessed more of what reality is and felt more pain than I had. The years they'd spent listening and partaking, as I was doing, had paid off. I could not compete with any of it, but she let me in on their private jokes, notwithstanding, and involved me in their antics as often as we were around each other. When I went to events with Nomi and whoever else she had along, there was no question about how confident I was. It meant a great deal to have her as a friend and to be able to call her one. As all this was happening, she confided with me just as much as I was confiding in her. With all that emotion and proximity, not to mention her talents in temptation, she began touching me and welcomed me to touch her, too. Lots of frivolous hugs were going on, but then they became more compelling. I did not know if she was manipulating me into something — if she was, it was working. She had the advantage of seniority and being the Cooler Cucumber than me, not to mention having a charisma that I lacked. She deadlocked me in my eyes all the time — a powerful thing to me. It reached the point when she trapped me on my lonesome one day, got me to open my mouth, and let her stick her tongue in it. It ended with her leading me by the hand and both of us on her bed, fucking one another. She pulled this off even amid my sobriety and having had considered myself a very straight female before then. Wow. Kudos to me, more power to her. Naomi became the first woman I was intimate with — she opened that gateway for me, broke that boundary and taboo. She was breaking lots of those not long after that. Things I never imagined myself doing began taking place, and I was doing them; things were taking me, more ambiguous puns intended. As time went on, she felt more like companionship and someone I could place my trust in and lower my guard around. It has remained as such to this day. VI Since I was alone at this particular event on that night, I wanted to be cautious. I was being analyzed head to toe by strangers left and right. I felt their eyes already peeling my duds off. During a warm night in June, there was not much clothing on me, to begin with — all my prominent features were out on display for them. I had done this on my own before and was discovering what worked for me, albeit tentatively. I needed to find a spot to settle in to get my bearings, with a drink in my hand that would put me on the path to enough of a buzz of courage to make a move on someone — or allow them to make theirs. A year farther down the highway, I might have done something insane and not thought twice, but I did not want to overdo anything here this evening. I was on my own, which is already taking a risk — too serious of one for my better part of judgment then. I found an unoccupied piece of patio furniture outside in the backyard. It was more spacious and less constricting than being inside the sweltering domicile. More air and fewer clusters of crowds brushing into my Safe Zone allowed me to relax and contemplate. People were in their groups and cliques and saturated in their confidences for reasons obvious to anyone. In that sort of environment, being ingratiated within a group makes a state of mind different from when unescorted. I felt withdrawn and homesick at this function that night, to be sure, drinking alcohol in my teens and prone to rash decisions. I had to remain vigilant and keep my wits about me. This garden party had been carrying on for a while now. I saw people dancing, fornicating, and rambling incoherently across the yard from what looked to be drug use, alleged to be ecstasy. I saw a surreptitious group of males, the type known all too well to me by then. I assumed they were selling — my assumption proved correct after time spent sitting with my drink and policing them. Club drugs were still out of my depth then, and taking something like MDMA — or taking any substance for that matter — without someone to trust nearby leads to bad decision-making and potential catastrophe. It's a wonderful way to wreck your entire life in an instant — and be left with the sickening hindsight of, “Why did I have to do it? I could have Just Said No. Everything would be fine right now if I had.” Thoughts such as those make me think of what is taken for granted, not to mention my health. With what I was doing for a better amount of six years, it is a miracle I am even alive and not in a coma or dead. Which is worse, the former or the latter? There would be no fucking way I would be taking anything on that night, let alone pay anything out of pocket for whatever insalubrious garbage it may have been cut with. I was searching around for someone who appeared to be in a comparable situation as me: they were at this festivity to get laid and bust their nut — no cons, illegalities, or ODs attached. Nothing wrong with a little lovin'. I had been there for at least half an hour now. I recall having a Dark and Stormy — a drink I have thoroughly enjoyed over the years. I doubt the rum was anything from a top shelf, but volume is volume. Speaking of volume, since the time I'd strolled through the home, the music was getting better. Maybe they'd replaced whoever was doing the DJing with someone who knew their shit — a connoisseur who viewed music as an art form, as I did. It sounded to be deep-cuts of minimal techno, vocal trance, et cetera. Echoes of numerous, unknown artists and tracks that someone could quite easily only ever lay ears on once during a lifespan and then never hear again. Hearing the unheard has always been a big deal to me. I thrive for a moment where I will hear something to fall in love with — or take offense from. As cruel as it seems to say to anybody sober, genres such as techno and trance will only sound better while rolling on uppers or while bombed out of their gourds on herb — or, in my case, that eve, floating on alcohol. But please permit me to be a hoity-toity, high and mighty, la-di-da ball-buster by repudiating what was literally just said: Don't do drugs; don't even drink hard liquor. It's the smart thing to do. VII I remember attempting a conversation with a couple of passersby if you could call it a conversation. Most of what they were mumbling to me about was idiosyncratic gibberish. Obviously Zonked. I told them, delivered as a fait accompli, what I was here for — my thirst needed to be quenched by some sort of personified punch after the stressors of my existence throughout that week, hither. While I continued to sip my beverage and soak in the sounds, I looked for a suitable other to aid me in accomplishing this feat. It would be an extreme responsibility for them. Most of the guys I saw there thought themselves larger than life, and justly so, I guess. They had girls with them already. It's possible actual relationships were going on, e.g., boyfriend and girlfriend. Most looked thunderous and hyper. Always something to say. They frolicked in their esteem. Were I to walk up to these characters or them to me, dictation would be on their terms. They could easily cast me aside and find someone looking nearly as good as I was that night, and I was looking severely good at 19; it would be untenable to deny or just plain mean to tell a Missy otherwise. I was getting tons of inspections, lonely and abandoned as I was. Time was running out for me to choose, and the alcohol was in effect. VIII I saw one of the smaller assemblages that looked to be more phlegmatic than the norm. They casually conversed and gave no evidence of having any terminal impairment. From a stone's throw away from my location, they looked like respectable working-class — blasé and hospitable; no flamboyance. One guy was the odd man out. He had no Lady on his arm, as the other two Gentlemen did. He looked to be a real Somebody. I would say he was in his upper twenties. His physique looked active, rugged, and undemanding — a type I loved to tempt. His hair was dark, dense, and wavy — enough of it to run my fingers through to feel good about myself. He had maintained facial hair, but not too maintained. He seemed rough around the edges, with nothing tapered or outstanding. His clothing — a distinctly recollected dark and drab T-shirt and tarnished denim jeans — fit loosely enough for comfort and snug enough to show off his sculpt — one that looked lean with a fatally underestimated power behind it. Hell yeah, I'd tap that! I was eyeing him up and down, gorgeous as I was, and he saw me doing it. He was participating in a chat with his buddies and their dates while he was more and more glancing over at me, sitting on my own, trying to pretend like he was not affected. I wondered if they were talking about me — it looked like they were touching on something. From what I was observing, he seemed to have a reserved opinion of himself. His friends appeared that way, too. There was no complacency or delusion present. I was stricken to carry myself with the same decorum in ordinary cases, but I was horny and infatuated with myself at the minute, not to mention Sloshed. I thought the man was looking at me and assuming right away that there would be no bet in hell of scoring a nasty summit of a number like me on that night. Too modest for his own good. Or was I wrong? Was I too conceited and haughty for my own good? I wondered what kind of beast of a Cock was skulking behind the excess seen in his weathered jeans like it was some predator waiting in ambush. Each seam and tear in those pants he bore so eloquently were more than likely earned by his merit at whatever tedious daily grind he had, rather than been pre-installed at purchase merely to resemble liveliness. As I continued studying him, I felt my mouth salivate. My breath began to elevate. My muscles were contracting, and I was fidgeting in my chair like I'd been doing at work earlier. What charm lay bare and void betwixt my thighs was going from moist to damp, damp to wet, and throbbing with each heartbeat. Steamy thoughts were going on in my fucked up and dirty head. I queried how much I could get away with here — Niña Loca, arguing with the Voices. The hand that did not contain a plastic cup involuntarily traveled down to paw at the soft Hill found in my shorts. I oftentimes do this with the knuckles bearing inward — really, there is no control over it. Then I felt my face begin to tingle and my mouth abruptly dry. I took another swig of 40 as if that would alleviate the dryness in the long run. My chest became tight, and my heart began to pulsate with even greater intensity — so much more that I felt it shocking my body from root to stem. My adrenaline was kicking in — something I still needed to get used to feeling. I wanted this dude to put his brawny hands all over me and force me to moan for him as he fucks me to climax. Oh, God, how I needed it. I wasn't going to wait around for it to happen. I got up and took concealed, stumbled strides athwart the grass and over to him. IX He grew taller as I neared — at least a head's higher than my 5'5''. Oh yeah, this fella was interested, so was I. Definitely a Smash. Something was trying to click here. His eyes lit up a bit, deep and complex as they were, like mine. Still, he did not turn them away from me to stare at his feet or act like he didn't know what was happening. I sensed he had assurance in himself, whether he cared to concede to it or not. As I landed my sights on the more intricate of his features, it became clear why he did. He was indeed much older than I, more into his early thirties. This was not some boy as green as the ground I stood on; it was a full-fledged Man. With the age comes the experience, as I was going to find out about later on. A man's age advantage over me also stirs my more discreet and frailer of psychological quirks — the lack of a Father Figure. Where I was invisible to my dad, I had found an adjacent alternative, who did appreciate me and lavished me in sensuality, furthermore. I'm a believer in Occam's razor — that the Quickest Avenue is probably going to be the right one to go down. Short and sweet; no meandering BS or trying out new techniques. I asked him if he was with someone. He took my meaning, shook his dear head in a neutral expression, and told me No. We shared the same policy, apparently — candid, concise, and straight to business; this is not like the movies. I asked if I could be with him. He said Yes — just like that. I went up to meet his chest, albeit hesitant from the slight jolted shock to my nervous system when I realized he was more seasoned than I had anticipated. But he extended a sinewy arm to give me signs I had nothing to fear from him. An indefinable surge of warmth went over me. Feelings of Happiness and Acceptance flooded inside as I hugged my body closer. I was on his left; I remember it. He put his arm around me. He was a rock-solid Bull. I wanted to put my arm around him, too. When I did, it felt like trying to hug a bronze statue out of Ancient Rome. I felt out of my body so often during these escapades. It was something surreal like a déjà vu or feeling like I'd reached the pinnacle of a precipice, one where reality only existed inside my mind and falling off the ledge would turn it into a black nihility, like before being born into a soul. I wished to rest my head on him and shut my eyes, then open them to see if I'd wake up someplace else — I didn't want to wake up; I wanted to go nowhere else but 'Here' and 'Now.' He had a scent of cologne that merged with a nostalgic hint of tobacco that I grew up around in a family of smokers; casual, and chain. His conferees were, as I inferred: Around their late twenties and precisely the kinds of laid-back folks that I could correlate to and mellow out with. One might even label it esoteric — no conformity, only themselves. There was an introduction. We exchanged our names — of which now I cannot recall. Mine was Melanie, and it is appalling that I cannot remember the name of my new boyfriend as I write in the present tense. His pals seemed tranquil and only spoke about as much as need be. They continued having a conversation about something that I draw blanks on now. I think it was work-related. I gathered they were co-workers. What was running through my mind was who I had my arm around. My hand and its fingers lightly traced the finer details and digits of his spine. They went up to the lower parts of his neck to brush his hairline. I was touching him with greater zeal and affection at an alarming rate of attrition. He was considering it, and I could see it. Who knew I had it in me? I had to raise my head to meet his height. My eyes were looking up and to his. Even if he turned away for a moment to those he was already familiar with, as if to equivocate my presence, I did not falter — my sight remained on him. This technique was not just for him to enjoy but also was a means for me to read him — to try my damnedest to discern what kind of man this was. What kind of secrets did I need to know about, hmm? Eye contact. It's important to me. I wanted to trust this stranger enough to give him Carte Blanche and let him have total Dominion over me and all that could be his. Capriciousness had nothing to do with the decision I had made — and despite my inebriation, while crossing over the lawn, I knew what I was doing here. It was the End Game in mind — for me to have my brains Fucked out in earnest and their gray matter suspended in Orgasmic Euphoria. Such has always been my Vice. The rest is impertinent; diversions or tactics to lead me to it. When they met my soft skin, I recalled the grain of his hands calloused and stalwart, like a man's hands should feel. As I expected, this was an active human being with a firm grip on a very clingy gal who coveted to get a lot more of her parts gripped on before the roosters had a chance to crow at sun-up. What I did not expect was how much this buckaroo knew what he was doing. It leads me to believe that this is why I still retain the night, even over six blurry years later, where I would find myself in similar predicaments during every week's end. X I finished my Juice and nonchalantly tossed the obligatory Red Solo Cup elsewhere, scattering the condensed ice cubes and soggy rum-soaked lime wedge amongst the turf. A Party will be a Party, and this one was not mine. A proper Fucking Mess — “Fucking” in verb form — for the host/hostess to clean up after all's said and done is, in consolidated fact, a Given. I now had both of my lovely hands vacant and available to touch him, as my inborn omnipotence concerning these libidinous affairs deemed fit. I edged myself from his side and into his front, though not all the way. Of course, this rose his attention; why would it not? No dialogue was going on between us, and I was quite all right with that. The Music played. The Multitudes in the yard carried on hooping and hollering like not a thing was transpiring between He and Me. My hands were running up and down along his sides and anywhere else stimulating they could conquer. I have been told countless times in so many ways about what it is like to feel my reception and bona fide sentiment via my touch. I did not grab the Bulge I wanted so desperately to have in my clutches, quite yet. It's crucial not to overstep bounds, initially. I needed to wait for that moment, a critical one. I had a Good Vibe going on here; high hopes; this was most certainly a Catch. He “wasn't most guys,” and for once in a blue-fucking-moon in the Sky, this Truth was held to be self-evident. I wanted him to have it, this luscious body in its entirety. He did not have to prove a thing to a girl endeavoring to cultivate herself. I finally got him to focus on Me, Me, Me, and fuck all else — the narcissistic wench that I was. In that instant, I banked on the Accolade to take place — the bit where this man took over for me and granted me something in return; quid pro quo. And he did. First Base! He had been a downplayed professional, touching me in all the right places with all the right amounts of pressure applied. His friends were very polite, and I don't even remember when they shifted elsewhere to give us our privacy. The only thing I remember was how fast I was being pulled into his body from a forceful tug on my Butt and my lips meeting his. I felt my boobs flattened on his torso in their usual somatic fashion — always a treat. My eyes closed, and what was subtlety on both our parts quickly turned to passion. I had no choice in this anymore. I was being manhandled and forced to submission by this Tank, made to feel like a Woman. My forearms went around his Hull and my fingers through his hair — any place I could nudge and turn on. All the while, he is doing the same things to me. Inside, I am growing aroused beyond words — driven to moan and whisper indiscretions and Freudian slips I would only utter from my authentic pleasure. My emotional state, psyche, and soul were being taken back to childhood — dismissal then, embrace now. They should be signals to this man — to any man — of how much I was getting into this. I was 'F4M/DTF/NSA,' unequivocally. He had taken his Big Bat and hit the Baseball well into the outfield, if not a home run, so he rounded to Second Base without the obligation to halt on the first plate. The heat and waves from his approval and endorsement enveloped me. I was standing on tippy-toes and then felt a drag in the small of my back by a stern and assertive hand. I was as closely knit to his body as allowable with our clothes still on. My kisses grew more adventurous and liberal, of which happy campers have told me are as great as my touch. My tongue was doing its handiwork; he impressed me with his. He was pulling up my leg to rest against his midsection as if to lift me from the ground and spare me my encumbrance. I'll admit, it was tough being Me sometimes. He had his other hand grabbing into my tight Ass in the interim — a lot of Ass to grab into. Courtesy of a South-American heritage, the Brazilian Butt Lift came with the Package. As he did this, it caused everything so tender and bewitching to the commonfolk to stretch apart and shoot waves of exhilaration through me, from the top of my pointy hat, to where I sit on a broomstick, to the tips of my toes. I like it when my backside is played with and violated by a stronger counterpart, 'tis true. I emphasize: With all that is Corporeal, simultaneously existing with all that is Conceptual, the pleasure I feel from this is Incommunicable. I felt another brutish hand betwixt my pregnable legs and its fingers pressing into fertile valleys below the pubic bone. He knew precisely where my Clit was, even with my dungarees obstructing it. We — being me and Her — were assuredly in trouble. Giving this Paragon of Masculinity no sign of refusal and every incentive to take this to another level, I immediately placed my hand on the Bump of unmentionables in his slacks. I was, dying then and there to have it rammed inside me — through any choice of an entrance — to placate my yearning. I felt how hard it was and only wondered of its potential size when I had it out to put my hands on it. It felt disconcertingly Huge. Too huge for captivity. I aimed to be the girl to release it for good. XI I do not know how long we were making out. What could have been minutes seemed like hours to me? Or is it the other way around? My guy and I were standing out in public, and this shit was getting Real. He was going under my skimpy little summertime top and touching my bare, prohibited flesh by that point. I wanted him to take it off. I didn't stand a possibility to surmount to this; he would just triumph in one way or another. He could put me over a desk, stick his Dick in my Ass and fuck the reading glasses off me, and there would not be a goddamned thing I could do to prevent it. I knew it. Despite all that Respect I had for myself, I was ready to accept being got and fucked back into my place on the Hierarchy — fucked out of the Feminist Mindset that liked to creep up on me. And him being a Hunk and having it all rock-hard in his pants because of me only validated my Role and gave me that much more esteem — I accorded him his hard-on. He was digging me. On the Ortho-Novum, or whatever I was taking at the time, there was no cause for us to be concerned about unplanned cherubs should things come to that. We were ready for this to happen. My areolae diminished, nipples coagulated. I felt numb from the cocktail in my system. What a lousy feeling sometimes. Contrary to what's said about alcohol warming the blood, the opposite is true — it reduces body temperature. I was getting cold. Finally, my boo gave me an interval to be able to tell him that I “really wanted to be alone with him” — more than likely in those selfsame words, or fewer — implying that I needed him to fuck me. He understood. This guy was exceptional, incredible. Most talk too much, but he was of few words. He explained to me, in brevity, that he lived only a five-minute stroll from the house party and asked me if I wanted to go there with him. I answered, “Yes," with as much sincerity and solemnity as I could muster from my drunken state. He put his arm around me, said some hazy farewells and valedictions to his associates, and lead me from the property. XII The eve had turned late, at least according to whatever Pecksniffian condescender declared that 'when the sun is down, then it should be deemed by us as such.' I didn't know the exact time, but as long as I'd lived with Time, it had to have been at least after 23:00. It was a peaceful walk, lit by the scattered lamps on the road and the city's glow and hum. Not a lot was spoken between him and me, though I remember trading compliments and informing him of how much I was looking forward to this. We were enchanted by each other in the ambiance of the midnight that warded off the distant sounds of commerce, transit, and day-in-day-out hustle-bustle. My other half had a sturdy arm around my curvy waistline, and a steady palm on my belly — my more supple touch sought to rouse him on his back while he did so. I was on his left side; I reckon it's the instinctive side of an alpha male for me to choose. It made me feel great; these fluttery butterflies in my head with his hold down there. I strived to stay as flirty and lewd as I could with my hookup. But mayhaps a more magical side of me gave a more devoted sort of touch to him, as plausible while in motion, as we neared wherever he lived. Maybe my caring touch hoped to sustain the comfort and warmth we had already shared at the gathering together. Perhaps it hoped to obtain more. I can get a bit melancholy while on the sauce; it is a depressant, after all. I remember my touch carrying a gravity. Was my fling feeling it like it was? Nah, probably not. Regardless, my swooning and blushing from this tall and mysterious drifter, leading me to be fucked, may have evoked some facepalming drama. He had his arm around my waist. His hand pressed into my womb; it possibly jerked a tear in the corner of my eye or two. Maybe a little one. I can become very emotional when my guard is down like it was there; is that so bad? I get this fucking longing to gratify another entity and receive something in return from it. It is kind of difficult to explain. Most of my frequented types did not give me this in return. I wanted to exploit some form of compromise — a chunk that was taken out of their armor by means I would hope to overhear during pillow talk, highs, trips, or something. I aspire to get a hard-ass such as this one with my arm wrapped around to open themselves up to me; make me feel meaningful, if not indispensable to them. Maybe then I would repay them by letting them see me open up — let them have a taste of what really flows through my heart. Though I would find myself in similar situations shortly in the future, most of the liquor was subsiding by then; I only downed the one cup at the gala — granted, a large cup. The temperature had fallen, and I was freezing. I remember shivering and trembling, my teeth gritting, but this could have been from the looming plans. I will confess, I was slightly anxious since I knew what was coming. I was in this sexy rascal's grasp and heading with him towards the fabricated and murk unventured. It did not matter; it was a beneficial kind of worry, more of a therapeutic dilemma, or being in labor before childbirth — the kind that made me feel like a lady. I had to have been looking good — my heavy eyeliner to lose himself in; my myriad of long sable hair abound for him to stir and sway. He was treating me well. He had respect for me, and I knew he would not hurt me. I was fucking ready for this. XIII We'd reached our destination. I had deduced — all while keeping up with the tradition of oohing and awing over the immaterial and mundane on our way over — that the structure was a lesser idyllic sight, fixed closer to the street. It was more of a bungalow, with less of a yard in front — a bit of a far cry from the dazzling, bourgeois casa we'd trekked from in the minutes that felt like ages ago. But if it's Moolah I'm after, then they don't know me at all. He took me around to the rear of the dwelling to unlock a door. The backyard was more spacious, only as I recall from the low level of visibility, it being past my bedtime. No moment was wasted going inside. He closed the doorway. I heard the keys clank as they hit the kitchen counter. It was dim, save for a small tinted light seen in his living room — he had left it as such for us: dark. The curtains were closed. I heard a radio on low; 88.1, a jazz station — maybe to dissuade intruders? Or had he been planning something here all along? What space was there appeared to be well-kept, as if he wasn't home a lot — or when he was, he had a needy bombshell clinging to him as he did on this night. It had this atmosphere of order and neatness — that of an industrial and regulated one — a well-disciplined fellow. Though, it felt like a cozy and homey place to me, too. I was only judging all of this in a brief instance because he turned to confront me. I gawked at him with a minor trace of hesitancy, as if I could not believe this was happening to me right now. He took me in his arms, and I melted into a fervent kiss. XIV You get out of me what you put into me. Most of the plights that I braved with men were pseudo and superficial. There was no real thought of affection from them. But this seemed offbeat. I was feeling it — the vibe and the passion. He was giving me everything he had while still being vertical with clothes on his person, and he was fucking good at it. I don't know how long we were fondling one another or how we were veering towards the living room floor. As we did so, I understood that pieces of our clothing no longer wanted to be a part of the equation. I had my Beau's shirt off before we hit the rug. An effortless quintessence of a man was on top of me, giving it up to me, and I back to him. My top was still on, likely thinly sown and suggestive. I must confess I had not been wearing a bra since that eventide when I left work. It is my habit to ditch a bra from my soma at any opportune respite I can get. I have claustrophobia, and they are so fucking choking and uncomfortable. And, yeah, what was underneath the required conduct and expectation for people to have raiment on their persona in Society was probably blatantly visible to the public, too — i.e., my voluptuous 30Ds. But why should I have to wear a bra on such a nefarious night? He already knew it, of course. His hands were well up into my shirt and directly applied to all that is magnificent back at the party. He had not seen them unfiltered yet, however. We were still kissing; necking; feeling each other up — making love with each other. Does this not seem like it could want to go on for an eternity? My toned legs were wrapping around his back and pulling him in. I hugged him as close to me as I could. He touched me all over, was rubbing his hand on my shorts, right where I like it. Arousing noises were being born by me through concupiscence and pleasure. He stopped a moment, said nothing, only looked at me — my mood dazed and bewildered; my hair a scintillating and frantic mess, as he edged my top over my boobs. He paused another sec, and his eyes went wide. Nevertheless, he did not comment, and neither did I. Our facial expressions were our conversation. Maybe I would be getting another kind of 'facial' pretty soon. I looked at him and gave half a smirk with a feigned exhalation through my nose. He seized the meaning that I wanted this to proceed. He smooched me all over my upstairs and became enraptured by the visage of my exquisite knockers handcrafted by God. I closed my eyes and felt hot inside as he did so, never ceasing to convey my profound affections to him. He was traveling further downstairs in his affections towards me. My scantily sported top, a fluorescent orange insert brand name as I hark back to, had been discarded — flung across the pad. Both of us still had our pants on, obscuring the most sacred and sought-after regions. His was all I was musing about; what kind of monstrosity would I have to tussle with here? I could only feel it confined to his pants — what I felt scared me and shortened my breath, made me bite a lip or two. I was so fucking aroused. He was past my navel at this point; his tongue had been in there. My pants, still being equipped, did neither of us any good. It was time. He knew it, and so did I. He slid them down my legs and past my bare feet that draped over his shoulders. I have cute feet and toes, probably painted then. He saw them — before glimpsing at the shaven grandeur farther up, clearly conspicuous behind a decadent thong — and was not opposed to putting any part of me into his trap. He did something like stick me in his mouth, and I did something such as stroke the excess of his penis in his jeans with my other foot if only to entice him — as is my intuition when an apex has my toes at his mercy. His blue jeans were indeed still present, and I would be giving him prompts to take them off in succession with my waxed legs spread for him. He did not succumb. He took his time and it was turning me the fuck on in the meantime. My darling had skipped down several floors. He was now operating from bottom to top, inevitably leading to my delectable vulva and all points between — within and without; protruded and retracted. Would whatever animal that lay hungry in the foliage cause a prolapse when it sprung out to attack me? We — me and my pussy — had to wonder how bad this was going to be. What had we gotten ourselves into this time? It was no tricky task for this specialist to maneuver around my slutty looking band of string and put his mouth on areas and orifices that need no introduction to Mankind. There was no excuse not to know the female anatomy in 2014. Like the rest of his touch, it was an intrinsic gift to him — the right amounts of oscillated pressure applied under my little canopy. All I could think to do was just lay there and deal with it, play with my boobies, bite my lip, look down in amazement and reverence and savor it. This was a man who was not afraid or ashamed to go down on a woman. Evidently, this was about my pleasure, not his. I felt like a queen. He tapped his tongue right into my spot with my hand on his head whilst I was gasping in total awe of this hottie and pleading with him for it to continue and never desist. What more could a girl want? Everything was dripping in secretion, famished to have this panther make a meal out of us. His tongue in my box and on Dr. Grafenberg's spot was positively Awesome — I never use this word lightly. XV At this point, we had me moaning in agony for him, my legs trembling, and nerve endings bestowing euphoric bolts of lightning through my body. I was so fucking close, and yet, he paused. He brought my legs together and ditched the sad excuse of synthetic material that remained on me, leaving me in the nude. I do remember faintly saying to him, in helpless and perplexed excitement, “Let me see it, Daddy,” as if I had to tell this guy how to do his job. I could not help it; I needed it so fucking badly! He took the sides of my arms in both his hands and elevated me from the floor. He didn't have to tell me twice when he stood to his feet. I got on my knees and put my hands on his legs, never forgetting eye contact — laborious as it was, to focus on anything but my prize. My mate had already trod well past the third base by now, and I hadn't even seen it yet — I would not malinger here. It was time for him to head for the home plate — the final sprint. He undid the button and saved the zipper for me. I'd waste no time keeping his briefs on, either. I wanted the shock from this to strike me — though slowly, steadily, and in all profundity, I gripped the tops to slide them down. In exact, shuddered words of, “Oh my God,” as it lept out from behind the final barrier of cloth and fell from its weight, oxygen had been displaced in my lungs and replaced by another wave of an electrical current that detonated in my chest. I could not believe what I was bearing witness to here. Before then, I'd seen in propria persona what constitutes Perfect and Large dicks — these are not terrible items at all. But I had not seen a cock as colossal as his, staring me right in the face as tangible. This dude was Hung. How in Fuck's name was I going to manage this! He put the 'Well' in 'Well Endowed' in every literal and iterated sense. My breath quivered, and all I could think to do next was to put my hands on it — yes, it required them both. I'm on my knees, naked and flushed, before this monument of a man looking down at me. He was petting my head and pampering my brown-black hair, encouraging and inspiring me. Fuck, I was hot. It just behooved me, instinctively, to begin the process of engulfing it. Need I go into copious detail here? I was a prodigy of oral sex — of any sex. The simple translation: I love fucking. I heard his breathing go up and felt his grip begin to tighten. He didn't do anything brutish or obnoxious to me, only tilted his head to the ceiling to enjoy it. This delighted and satisfied me as I proceeded to go down on it further. I couldn't fit its entirety into the back of my throat, as diligent and persevered as I was, so I ran along its sides instead. I glanced up at him and sought his trust in me to put his nuts in my mouth — gently so as not to hurt them. One hand remained to stroke on his cock, the other wrapped around his leg. I closed my eyes and listened to his stifled groans from the fabulous head he was receiving. The erotic redolence of sex was in the air and affecting my anima. I felt both of our raised pulses; my own was crippling me. My heart could not beat any faster than it was; my body was ready to explode like a volcano. I rose from my knees a bit to play with myself. I doubt he noticed me reaching down to rub my pussy and press a finger or two onto my asshole. I continued to suck his dick off and allow as much of it to slide down into my throat as I could. I was so fucking ready for this guy to vanquish us. How were we going to fit this? I trusted him to be helpful and patient; he seemed like such a nice and handsome gent. We were communicating with each other only through our expression; it went without saying. Both of us knew what to do before the moment had arrived. My sweetheart saw me dawdling and hesitating with his circumference still in my yap and gently withdrew. He had his hand brushing the side of my adorable mug and went to a bended knee to lay on the soft carpet. He didn't have to signal me; tell me two times — we had already agreed upon it. It was beautiful and organic. On my way back down to meet him, I gave fellatio for a moment longer, simply to show how much I cared and also to prep it for penetration. Then I settled my hands on his warm and naked hide and laid atop him, my comely profile facing his. My body was swollen in its arousal as I lay pressed against him, everything so sensitive in the slightest movement. My lover put arms around me; I was no longer cold. I was like china, but he was gentle, caring only for my comfort. I wanted to kiss him again for it, and now free in the nude with the thought of his lush cock eagerly waiting in the middle of my titillating legs. My choice. An inexpressible joy that can only be comprehended while feeling the phenomena; two conglomerate bodies becoming a better and fuller whole. I felt like a part of this person. We laced hands, sought fidelity while entwined, and committed ourselves to one another. We withheld nothing. I felt safe; he would not harm me. I only go by my nature when I feel this fierce of a connection with my partner. XVI I don't recall any other specifics of our lovemaking prior to insertion. What I do remember about this night were the length and girth. We were going to have to take this slow; it went without saying as he caressed me, and I gave him whimpers and hints of how nervous I was. I was as ready for it as I would ever be; burning, drenched, and relaxed. His very erect Johnson was still loitering around the entrance to my pussy. No condom was involved — always a gamble, but he seemed like a well-kept enough chap to me. I took his hand in mine and guided it down my back to display my wish. I placed mine on his shaft and carefully prodded its head through my labia and onto my slit to squeeze it in. Yeah, he was enjoying himself. I did not remove my cajoling gaze from him, either. It entailed some parted mouths, some blood-and-tears, some concentrated squints, and mixed cries of anguish and relief, but we slipped the tip in. Every part of my vaginal cavity was screaming, “No, don't do this to me, Mel! It's too big!” But despite her quandaries, this was working out for us. Notwithstanding her bitching and vanity, we'd managed it, hand in hand, side by side; we were in this together now. I began to acclimate to my man's ferocious size and take his cock like it was put on Earth, designed, and tent for my insides. I did my utmost to have as every much of a blazing inch stretching me apart as possible. I dug my fingers into his chest and arched my back, going down on this fucking fire-breathing leviathan as much as I could stomach. Its master and ruler — its Neptune — only laid there with his eyes closed and head on the carpet. He had stopped touching me at that point. Was he just relishing in my depravity and my desperation to make this work? Various “oh gods” and “oh fucks” were forcibly ousted from my vernacular amidst each heavier land onto his column. My tits bounced up and down for his entertainment and viewing pleasure. How great does that sound? Still, he lay there, hands behind his head like nothing was happening, and my determination to win over his heart didn't mean fuck all to him. I felt it striking withering blows to my cervix at that point, and a substantial number of fiery inches remained outdoors. I could not, for the life of me, adjoin his ball sack to my filled gape. I leaned back like I love to do and could not sit down on it all the way. It forced me to remain aloft, quite literally. This man was fucking huge — a cock to contend with a giant's. Enough said. XVII The challenging amount of size was negligible after some minutes of nurtured friction, slower plummets, and repeated grindings. This job was not without its complications. It's not kids' stuff; it's strenuous and taxing — this was not easy work, and Pussy and I were having our work cut out for us. There were pings of discomfort and pleasure, but eventually, I was landing on it in enough of a meticulous rhythm to begin to feel an orgasm in the making of such immense depth and explosive magnitude as I had never felt. Its surface texture just felt so damn fine inside; words cannot tell. My membrane encompassed every pulsing vein and intricacy. Its foreign heat melded with my familiar — it accommodated the ache on the spot where I kept liking it to hit. I was getting comfortable, slicker from the continual reams in and out of my hole. It was getting a lot easier to endure, very rapidly. The explosion, and my trip to it, would not be canceled. His cock was hitting the home plate, and then some. If any pain persisted as it broke through the gates during the relentless siege into my pink, I was ignoring it. It was too good to stop. I had no jurisdiction over myself at this point; it had all switched over to mental. Nothing else was relevant. God, can I get into it. I was getting ready to come all over Daddy's cock, and I was telling him so. He did not need to be apprised by me; he saw me getting close. He no longer just lay dormant but reciprocated with affection, put his hands all over me, and gave me the time of night. The feeling of his acknowledgment, on its own, was enough to send me over the edge, then and there. I tried to hold out for as long as I could. Why? I do not know. Perhaps it was my pride. Maybe I didn't want him seeing how easy I was; or how much I was fancying him. I didn't trust myself enough to let go. It would not matter; he would force the orgasm out of me eventually, by my will or not. Things were getting more vocal on my part; nothing said was being moderated. I have something of a terrible fucking lip, nihilistic as I tend to be. He began to pound into my body as I met with his — a synchronized love dance that has been going on between Man and his woman for quite some ti Bandung forum Sex group with the title: Bandung forum Post by coxy1121 Anyone want to view my forum please please please please please. View my forum and leave a comment if you want. I also created a group if any of you people out there who wants to join my group please please please please please please. willingandopen Male · Coogee‚ NSW, Australia. I love to please. I will do anything you want me to. Very few things turn me off. I like someone who knows what they want and isn't afraid to ask for it. I happy to lead as well as be lead. I am a guy who you can act out all your darkest fantasies with. I'll try anything once. Use me‚ as you see fit!! lead Male · United Kingdom. This is the member profile for lead House Hunting House Hunting · One on One · I arrive at the house she's "showing" me and she's already there, the front door stands invitingly ascew. I walk in without saying a word. I lock the door as I close it softly. Following the scent of Rose water and desire, I find her in the kitchen, leaning back against the center islands top. Her hair up in a bun, astutely held in place by an ink pen. The lightness of her near see through summer dress hanging beautifully from the apex of her curves. The lack of visible bra strap sparks memory of her disliking panties too. Before I can speak she smirks, pushes off the island, upright to stride in one seamless motion. The heals of her fashionably worn boots tapping out a cadence nearly as quick as my heart beat's pace. A pace that skipped a beat then doubled it's speed the moment I saw her face. She brushed by me as if I was any of a hundred potential buyers. Immediately starting her shpeil, "The house was built in blah blah blah. It has yada yada bedrooms and blah bathrooms, the school district is..." who cares. "The neighbors are..." whatever. I'm not listening as she strolls into the living room. Slightly distracted by the sound of her heels echoing through the empty room. She's describing the Craftsmanship and origins of the bold, room dominating, 10 ft tall rock and timber fireplace as I catch up and take her hand. Pulling it back then up. With hand over her head I spin her 540°. Using the first full spin to take her in. Stealing a moment to admire the bits of visible thighs briefly exposed as her dress's hem caught lift from a centrifically created updraft. Using the final half turn to position her, face and front side to fossilized fireplace, back side and ass to beloved blast from the past. Grasping her other hand, stacking them palm to back and interlacing her fingers, I place her soft manicured hands directly above her head as high as upstretched arms will reach. I start to slide my fingertips first over wrist, past forearm over... Her hands begin to lower. With both my hands I grab hers stretching her arms skyward again, pressing my chest to shoulder blades, backed by an ample amount of body wieght. I lean lips towards lobes and calmly but with enough conviction in my tone to convey my seriousness, "Leave. Them. There." I say no more. Again my hands begin to decend, callused palms inverted to feminine flesh, fingernails slowly sliding, starting at wrists, down forearms, over elbows, following tensed triceps downward, ever so softly grazing the tender back side of her underarms. Turning hands over and opting to trace inside of dresses neckline around to her front. Confirming no bra. Nervous knuckles barely reaching cleavage when, with wandering finger tips gripping both sides of necklines deepest dip. Suddenly a swift, powerful, fist separating pull... Loud and crisp is the echoing of bouncing buttons. A sharp audible inhale follows, both sounds raucously ricochet around the naked room. Unintentional auditory outburst instantly putting her shock on display. Simultaneously exciting me in an old familiar way. The reverb of that reactionary breathe detracting from the sound of flower printed fabric fracturing. Exposing alabaster breast as tantalizing tear plunges towards waistline. Retracting fisted fabric around ribs cage to spine and pressing bare chest heavily, harshly to cold multi textured stones. A wince and flinch, reaction to pain felt from jagged edge nearly piercing breast's flesh near left nipple's crest. Soothing coolness felt from, smooth, glass like surface of rounded stone nestled beneath right breast. Just to name a few nipple hardening, sentually maddening sensations felt by her nearly sensory overloaded torso. Though Mostly it's her titties that, with my left hand continuing to apply pressure, will continue to experience the full measure of the fireplaces titillating textures. Leaning in, adding an almost unbearable amount of body weight to her beautifully bulbous backside. I whisper "Leave them there." Giving a little nudge to shoulder blades opposite boulder bound breasts, confirming breasts were to stay put. Mouth so tight to ear, lower lip drug lobes edge while instructions were delivered. Again, my hands decend slipping over hipbone front to back then delicately down outer thighs. Finger's tips collect behind each knee before climbing steadily up each legs back side, hooking dresses hem, lifting it past waist around hips to a tucked resting place between pelvis and fireplace rock. Chalky white ass fully exposed I give into the urge, slapping first left cheek *Smack* then right *Smack* momentarily leaving me motionless, mesmerized by rippling rump's firm resistance to jiggling. Too toned in fact, *Smack* I giggled, I did. *Smack* such an uncontrolled response was that. I then grab tattered dress at the peak from which it hangs between necks base and shoulders edge, rough and carelessly tugging it past waist til just over hips the fractured floral fabric flounders to the floor. I place hands on shoulder blades, thumbs tight to spine's sides. Smoothly, slowly my hands glide almost frictionless down back, cruise convex curves two thirds down ass. Slipping thumbs in crack as if peeling an orange I seperate the two beautifully toned parabolus that together are her near perfect ass. Slowly I start to squat then kneel there behind her, taking time to breath long deliberate breathes of warm lust down her slightly goosebumped spine. Dragging first my lower lip, then my up a short distance and just one time. Stopping at tail bone and ass cracks rendezvous point, I lead with wet tongue's tip follow that with puckered lips ending in a momentary french kiss With puddled saliva mid tongue I again place tongue's tip this time on edge of starfish pressing tongue to flat. Pursed flesh is instantly saliva soaked. My tongue traces a few clockwise laps around the circumference of slightly clenched orifice before wetting tongue and starting at taint climbing crack providing pressure just short of penetration. Reaching ass's pinnacle celebrated with a playful bite from each side of apple bottom's top before tongue dives again this time counter clockwise laps, faster, sloppier tongue occasionally plunging into starfish. Apparently taking things beyond the tossing of salad and now straight eating ass and doing so till plenty of time had passed. Standing tall again i take hold of her hands and again lead her through a spin. Pirouette concluded with her headed through kitchen door me at her heals. Carelessly I push her into newly updated kitchen's island. The momentum bending her slightly forward at the waist, without time to get straight I force face, chest and navel flush to island's top. Standing back to unbuckle belt and again admiring that phat ass. I pull belt trough loops and quickly strike that ass. She starts to pick up torso and turn, with just a bit of aggression in my tone quickly I bark, "Don't you fucking move!" Now with accelerated pace I unbutton, unzip, drop trough, thrust dick between wet lips till a touch past balls deep. Start with drawn out slow pace, shifting to longer, well longer than most, strokes every inch pulled out and every inch thrust in with steadily quickening speed and equally increasing force. Till, after some time and a considerable amount of incomprehensible moans, ass cheek claps and a little bit of pleasure filled laugh from me. I inquire through shortening breathes, "Baby will you come with me?" I pause and offer a sensual taunt, " Please, baby, please cum with me. That pussy's so good...I'm close, I really wish you would." Taking a few breathes but offering no respite steady pounding that red and rippling ass. With the sharp swift *Slap* of leather belt connecting with ass I grip hip bones harsly and in a demanding and forceful voice I say, "God damn it, I said Cum. That means..." belt cracks other cheek, " you cum and you cum now!" I pull her head back twisting it hard in attempt at making eye contact. Again barking orders, "You Filthy little whore, fuck you then I'm about to come and I swear to christ you better not fucking cum." I pullout and with a couple swift strokes my load is lauched, residing across ass and lower back. *Smack**smack* Twice more I selfishly slap ass, each cheek recieving hands grace independently. Red handed silhouette staying in place. Stepping back I squaltch my satisfied smirk and, " House is nice but, I don't want a fireplace." I said heading for the door buttoning my pants, belt around neck. "Let me know if you find another place to show me!" I yell stepping through the doorway, "No fireplace, K? Nice seeing you again." I said quickly as the door closed. The Prude The Prude · Erotic Couplings · The Question It all started out with a question‚ admittedly an incredibly personal one‚ but a question nevertheless. Laurie was no more than a casual acquaintance I’d met her at the school where I dropped off my two grandkids that I babysit during the day while my daughter and her husband are at work. Laurie on the other hand was a stay at home mum‚ with a child in kindergarten‚ which to start with shows the age disparity between the two of us. Anyway after the usual chit-chat‚ such as nice day‚ lousy weather‚ can you believe what the damn government is up to now and the such‚ she absolutely floored my one day by coming out with the most outlandish question I think anyone has ever asked me. As usual after dropping off our respective wards‚ we sauntered back to our vehicles talking about nothing in particular. As we walked‚ Laurie glanced around then said. “Gerry‚ can I ask you something on a rather personal level?” “Sure‚” I said‚ expecting her to ask me something about my personal life‚ or what my opinion was about some particular issue‚ man how wrong could I have been. Stopping‚ she glanced around‚ and then said. “Gerry does your penis hang past your testicles?” She asked‚ her face turning bright red as she blurted out her question. “You what‚” I asked almost spluttering in shock at the odd question. “I’m sorry‚” Laurie‚ said when she saw how stunned I was‚ “I should never have asked such a personal question‚ please forgive me and forget I ever asked you for such an intimate piece of information.” “It’s ok‚” I said‚ “I don’t mind‚ I was just taken aback for a moment‚” I continued trying to sooth her embarrassment. “As for an answer‚ yes it does hang below the level of my testicles probably by about three inches which means that it hangs to about here‚” I added allowing my hand to rest against my leg adjacent to where the tip of my cock hung when I was naked. “Oh my‚” she said‚ glancing down at the point where my hand rested against my trousers. “Can I ask why you’re so curious about how well hung I am?” I asked somewhat crudely just to see where it would lead. “Jack and I‚ that’s my husband‚ have been together since we were teens‚ in fact he’s the only man I’ve ever been intimate with‚ and not only that‚ he’s the only man I’ve ever seen without any cloths on. I know it sounds ridicules‚ what with the internet and porn‚ but when it comes to technology and stuff like computers‚ I’m a complete Luddite and don’t have a clue how to even switch one on. Jack claims he’s well endowed‚ but to be honest‚ I have problems keeping him inside of me his penis is so short‚ that is when we have sex‚ which believe me is pretty infrequently. So just from a curiosity point of view‚ I thought I’d ask you seeing as we’ve become quite friendly over the last little while‚ and besides that‚ I’ve no one else to confide in‚ so I really appreciate you answering my question as personal as it was.” “You’re welcome I said‚ If there’s anything else I can help you with‚ you only have to ask‚” I ended‚ hoping that I could get her to open up even more about what appeared to be an unhappy sex life. “Thanks‚” she said‚ then bid me farewell and we both went our separate ways. It couldn’t have been much more than a week later that we were walking back to our vehicles when for a second time she glanced around to make sure no one could hear her when she said. “Gerry‚ can I ask you another personal question?” “Sure I said‚” not knowing what to expect after that last session‚ but glad that she hadn’t dropped the subject completely. “Are you circumcised?” She asked a tinge of red showing in her face. “Actually I’m not‚” I answered. “During the time period when I was born‚ circumcision wasn’t particularly common‚ that is unless you’re Jewish‚ which of course I’m not.” “Jack’s been snipped‚” she said‚ so I’ve never seen a penis with the foreskin still attached‚” For a moment I considered asking her if she would like me to whip my dick out and let her have a look at it‚ but decided against it‚ preferring to wait and see what her next move would be. Well I didn’t have to wait long. A few days later‚ a steady downpour fell from the heavens in such a torrent even during the short walk from the parking lot to where the kids entered the school I got somewhat damp‚ when I caught sight of Laurie‚ she was not just damp‚ but soaked through to the skin. “What happened?” I asked‚ “How come you’re so wet?” “My car broke down‚ so I had to walk to get the kids to school‚ luckily they had their rain gear on‚ but when I ran back into the house I couldn’t find either an umbrella or my raincoat so I just had to get them here and damn the rain. Once I get home‚ I’ll get dried off‚ so it’s no great deal.” “Come on let me run you home‚ at least that way you’ll be able to get out of those wet clothes and get dried a lot quicker than if you have to walk.” Giving me direction I was soon pulling into her driveway‚ as she climbed out of the car‚ she turned to me and said. “Would you like a cup coffee Gerry‚ it’s fresh; I put on a pot just before I left to take the kids to school. Accepting her offer‚ she led me through the house and into the kitchen. “There’s cream in the fridge‚ the sugar is in a bowl over there beside the microwave‚ and the mugs are in that cupboard‚” she ended pointing at one of the doors just to the left of the Stove. After pouring myself a coffee‚ I dropped into one of the chairs beside the kitchen table‚ and sipped at my drink and waited for Laurie to reappear. When she did‚ I was somewhat surprised that she had changed her sodden clothes for a loose fitting housecoat‚ and from what I could tell‚ from the way her breasts moved under the material‚ she didn’t appear to have anything on underneath. I can honestly say that my offer to run her home had absolutely nothing to do with any ulterior motive‚ that is until I saw how her tits‚ which I must admit to having ogled a time or two‚ bounced provocatively within the confines of her garment. After pouring herself a coffee‚ Laurie walked over to the table and placed her cup next to mine‚ after a moment’s pause‚ she said. “Gerry‚ I can’t let this opportunity pass‚ since asking you about your penis‚ I’ve become obsessed with seeing it‚ please take it out so I can look at it‚” she ended‚ sounding on the one hand extremely embarrassed but on the other‚ determined to get her way. Seeing an opportunity to fulfil a desire of my own‚ I stood up‚ pulled my zip down‚ and then said. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours. So the deal is‚ if you get to look at my cock‚ then in exchange I want to see your tits‚ then you can look at it for as long as you want.” “Well I guess fairs fair‚” Laurie said smiling‚ then taking hold of the top portion of her housecoat she pulled it open revealing two beautiful boobs just slightly past their prime‚ but then who am I to complain considering I’m way past my prime. “Like them?” she asked causing them to sway back and forth evocatively. “There beautiful‚” I said‚ determined to fondle them before I left‚ and with luck wrap my mouth around those magnificent pink areola and nibble on her nipples that protruded at least a third of an inch from her tits. “Well I guess you’ve lived up to your end of the bargain‚” I said reaching into my fly and tacking out my cock that was already starting to harden at the thought of sucking on her tits‚ but not to the point where my foreskin had pulled back. “Can I see the head?” Laurie asked a hint of anticipation in her voice. “Why don’t you get hold of it and pull my foreskin back yourself‚” I suggested‚ “that way you’ll get to see the head of my dick plus get to know how it feels.” “You don’t mind me touching it‚” she said sounding somewhat surprised‚ “Jack absolutely refuses to let me touch his‚” for a moment Laurie paused and then said‚ “cock‚ there I said it‚” she went on‚ a hint of pride in her voice as though she had accomplished something monumental. “That’s strange‚” I commented‚ “most men‚ including me love to have a woman caress their cocks. So go ahead and take as much time as you want fondling it.” Tentatively reaching forward‚ Laurie at first just brushed the back of her fingers along the length of my dick‚ sending waves of pleasure rippling along the shaft. After a few seconds‚ she wrapped her fingers around my cock and slowly drew back my foreskin exposing the now very swollen head of my prick. “Can I watch you cum?” Laurie asked‚ gently running her hand up and down the shaft. “Absolutely‚” I said‚ “But not before I make you cum.” No‚ we can’t have sex‚” She said‚ a hint of panic sounding in her voice. “As much as I’d love to have your cock inside of me‚ I can’t be unfaithful to Jack. This has already gone way beyond what I set out to achieve‚ but I’m not willing to take that final step.” “As the old saying goes‚ there’s more than one way to skin a cat‚” I said “here‚ jump up on the table and lie back.” “What are you going to do? She asked somewhat apprehensively. “I’m going to lick your clit and make you cum all over the end of my tongue‚” “But isn’t that dirty?” she asked. “No more than a woman sucking on a man’s cock‚” I went on‚ finding it hard to believe that this beautiful young woman could be so naive‚ but on the other hand finding that very fact extremely erotic. Easing her onto her back‚ I undid the belt holding her housecoat closed and spread it out on either side of her‚ then gently spread her legs apart. “I’m so embarrassed.” She said‚ covering her face with the crook of her arms. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about‚” I said.” people do this all the time. “Is this the first time anyone has done this for you?” I asked‚ “Yes‚” she said‚ her voice slightly muffled by her arms. I always thought that oral sex was when a man put his cock into a woman’s mouth and sucked him‚ I didn’t realise that a man could do the same for a woman. “So Jack never did this for you?” I asked. “No‚ but on the rare occasion when he did want sex‚ he would have me kneel on the floor with my hands behind my back and slide his tiny cock in and out of my mouth until he came‚ after that he just climb into bed and go to sleep‚ leaving me to clean myself up.” “Well I’m not like that‚” I assured her‚ “To me satisfying my partner is as important as blowing my own load. So‚ I promise that you’re going to enjoy this immensely‚ if for some reason you don’t find having your clit licked absolutely mind blowing‚ I’ll stop immediately. Leaning forward‚ I gently parted her lips and to my delight discovered that Laurie had a huge clit that glistened with pussy juice. Placing my tongue in her wet juicy hole‚ I drove it in as far as it would go‚ and then slowly worked my way up to her clit. The instant‚ the slightly rough texture of my tongue rasped across her engorged hood‚ I could feel her body tense and then within seconds‚ she had grabbed the hair on the back of my head and drove her muff into my face. Seconds after that her body convulsed and then with a massif spasm that shook her entire body‚ she let out a groan that seemed to come from the very depths of her soul and then fluid gushed out of her hole as she came all over my face. For a moment‚ I stood there‚ Laurie’s pussy juice dripping off my face‚ allowing her to luxuriate in the aftermath of probably the first real orgasm she’d ever experience. As the ripples of pleasure slowly subsided‚ I asked. “How was it‚ as good as I promised?” “Better‚” she said. I wish I could experience it again‚ but I’m sure you want to climax yourself.” “If that’s what you want‚” I said‚ “then your wish is my command‚” I ended‚ spreading her lips again and this time taking that beautiful huge clit between my teeth and gently biting on it. As I did that‚ I reached up and grabbed her nipples between my thumb and finger‚ and began to squeeze them. Gently at fist but as I alternated between nibbling her clit and lashing it with my tongue I increased the pressure‚ as I did‚ I could feel her climax building within her as her hips began to convulse and then with a massive spasm‚ a second orgasm wracked her body. This time though I didn’t stop‚ but instead waited until she started to come down from the peak of pleasure I’d driven her to‚ then again started to lash her clit until a third orgasm ripped through her body‚ then a fourth and finally a fifth. “Enough‚” Laurie finally said‚ a mixture of exhaustion and pleasure sounding in her voice. “That‚” she went on‚ “was something else‚ I never knew that an orgasm could be so intense‚ not that I’ve ever been taken to such heights by Jack‚ that’s for sure‚ or that each subsequent orgasm could be more intense than the last.” After a moment’s silence‚ she went on. “Your turn‚ I intend to suck your cock like it’s never been sucked before.” To begin with‚ Laurie’s technique was at best crude‚ with her teeth raking up and down the length of my dick. She was an amazingly quick learner though and after listening to a few pointers‚ she was sucking my cock ling a seasoned pro‚ until unable to hold back any more I dumped a massive wad of hot cum into her mouth and down her throat. After she had drained every drop of cum out of my dick‚ she sat back on her ankles and said. “Gerry will you do something for me‚ it would mean a great deal to me? “What’s that‚” I asked‚ willing to grant her just about anything. “I realize that for you this probably has meant nothing other than the opportunity to screw some lonely broad‚ but I’d love you to give me a cuddle.” “Is that it?” I asked helping her to her feet and then scooping her into my arms. “Now then where’s the bedroom‚” After giving me directions‚ I carried her over to the bed and gently set her down and peeled of her housecoat‚ after stripping off my clothes‚ I climbed up beside her and taking her in my arms‚ I said. “Believe me Laurie when I say this was anything but a slam bam thank you mam. Although we didn’t actually make love‚ that was among the most pleasant sexual experiences of my life. Your husband has to be a complete idiot for not realizing what he has‚” I ended contentedly drawing her warm naked body against mine‚ and after cupping one of her breasts in my right hand‚ we both drifted off to sleep. From that point on‚ after we had dropped off the kids Laurie would come over to my place so nothing could get back to Jack about some guy visiting her several times a week. As soon as my door closed‚ we would strip naked and go at each other like a pair of horny teenagers‚ although she still refused to let me fuck her‚ there were still plenty of other erotic pass-times to while away the time. One of her favourites was to press my dick down onto my belly plant her clit on it than slide back and for until with a gush of pussy juice she’d orgasm and then suck my cock with a gusto that was hard to believe considering her inexperience when our relationship began. But for a chance occurrence things could have gone on that way indefinitely‚ that is until one day she turned up at school and the instant I saw her I knew something was different.” “You look happy‚” I said seeing the smile on her face. “You could say that‚” she said‚ smiling mischievously. “Well are you going to tell me what’s got you smiling like the Cheshire cat?” I asked. “Wait until we’re in the car‚” she said. The moment the car doors slammed shut‚ I said. “Well are you going to put me out of my misery or what?” “I guess I’ve teased you long enough‚” she said giving me her sweetest little girl smile. “I found out something quite interesting about Jack last night.” “What’s that‚” I asked. “That he’s having an affair.” “Who is she‚ someone he works with?” I asked. Not quite‚ as you’re aware Jack spends about three weeks out of four on the road‚ so his love interest is as you surmised someone he works with and interesting enough travels with‚ but it’s not a woman‚ it’s a man.” “How do you know that?” I asked curious as to how Laurie had gleaned that particular morsel. “Jack was working in his study‚ which is upstairs‚ so he shouted down for me to get something out of his briefcase. When I opened it‚ lying right on the top was a magazine that he must have forgot was there. On the cover was a picture of an almost naked guy‚ when I picked it up a letter fell out of it. I know I probably shouldn’t have read it‚ but I just couldn’t resist. It started out by saying how much this individual loved Jack to suck his cock and swallow his cum and how he hated it when they weren’t on the road together. At first‚ I was going to slip them back in Jack’s case and pretend that I hadn’t seen them‚ until it occurred to me what a golden opportunity this was.” “So what did you do?” I asked. “I confronted him with it.” “And?” I asked “He admitted to the fact that he’s gay‚ that and more besides‚ I mean what else could he do?” “This gets more intriguing by the minute‚” I said. “What else did he admit to?” “That he only married me to cover up the fact that he’s gay. You see Jack’s father is two things‚ firstly he’s incredibly rich‚ and secondly he’s an incredible bigot. If he ever found out that Jack is gay he would cut him out of the will in a heartbeat‚ and I’m talking millions of dollars. The other thing I discovered is Jack’s dick isn’t quite as small as I thought‚ it’s just that while having sex with me‚ which he claims he only did as a last resort when he couldn’t meet with his lover‚ that he couldn’t get an erection.” “So what came out of this little heart to heart you and Jack had?” “Actually it ended quite amicably. I’ve agreed to allow Jack to bring his lover over to the house so they can be together as much as they want‚ and not just when Jack is on the road‚ “ “And what do you get out of this little deal?” I asked. Smiling she said. “You; which is what makes this deal so perfect; Jack has no interest in me sexually but needs me as a front‚ so his old man won’t suspect his sexual orientation. And now that his love interest can come by any time‚ he is willing to turn a blind eye to our little tryst.” “So he knows about me?” I asked. “Yes‚” she answered. “I thought it best to be up front with him so that he could see that agreeing to my offer bought us both something.” “So that means‚” I began until Laurie cut me off. “Yep‚ when we get to your place I'm going to fuck your brains out’ True to her word‚ the moment the door closed Laurie dragged me up to the bedroom stripped me naked and pushed me back onto the bed. After removing her cloths‚ she climbed on top of me and slowly let my dick slide into her incredibly tight pussy and rode me until‚ for the first time since this incredible adventure began‚ I pumped wads of hot cum into her willing hole. For a moment‚ I lay there‚ luxuriating in the fact that Laurie and I had fully consummated our love for each other. Once I’d recovered sufficiently‚ I pushed her onto her back‚ spread her legs apart‚ and gave her cum sodden clit a good tongue-lashing‚ until with a fountain of pussy juice she came all over my face. After that we snuggled up together both of us about as content as it’s possible to be. All I can say is that I’m glad that Laurie’s husband has no use for her other than a way to feather his nest when his old man croaks. Which to be truthful I find rather sad‚ because as bigoted as he is‚ I’m sure that once the truth came out‚ he would still find it in his heart to love him as I did when it turned out that my son was gay. Hey let’s talk Macon/Warner Robins, GA (USA) · Casual Sex · Hey I’m into bdsm. If you are let’s talk. I already knew this but now you know. http://bdsmtest.org/result.php?id=3232453 == Results from bdsmtest.org == 100% Degrader 100% Dominant 100% Rigger 100% Owner 100% Master/Mistress 95% Primal (Hunter) 95% Sadist 85% Brat tamer 83% Non-monogamist 74% Experimentalist 63% Daddy/Mommy 50% Exhibitionist 50% Voyeur 24% Ageplayer 6% Vanilla 3% Masochist 2% Pet 1% Primal (Prey) 1% Rope bunny 0% Degradee 0% Switch 0% Slave 0% Girl/Boy 0% Brat 0% Submissive I love this article so here you go, hope you get as much from it. http://madamenoire.com/1202616/monique-daddy/ I was into this life before fifty shades of grey. I always loved discipline. As long as I can remember. I'm soo aggressive and rough with it. I am into domestic discipline. I love pulling hair, slapping ass as well as a face, I'm into choking during sex and romancing all day through text message. Yes my woman will always wake up and go to sleep to those texts and romantic music. but the sex is long and rough. Neck biting is definitely my thing. I have been in this type of lifestyle all my life. This is all I know, get at me only if you are into that. I live in Atlanta right now but travel often. So I could come to a city near you, no problem. Give me a reason :p I have my own business, so I have my own time, do what I want. Only thing that controls me is I am a dad. I love to travel (can’t find much time to lately, I have three children now and I’m a great father) anyway I still love to make money FAST hustle money! Been in adult entertainment 13 yrs, but now I am a motivational speaker for my own private school group of Alpha males (exgang members, expimps and exdrug dealers.. guys just like me). I love what I do. I am a workaholic. I authored nine books and twenty magazines so far all on one subject. Yea, Im pretty fucking wild ! The spontaneous shit, anywhere then everywhere, its fucking awesome. I love fast cars, exotics, mink coats (I love em) big flashy diamonds, I have tons of pics in different states, in casinos spending big drinking, having fun. Some with my crew, I wont put them on here because each one has there on discreet life with me and dont want it publicized like when we were all younger. These are my real pics. Im wild but, I can romance too! :p Hope to hear from you. Lets do what comes to mind... On the highway (we pull over) although I have and will do it while driving fast. But Im not that tall and I usually cant see over the girls head lol. Dont laugh, that part wasnt funny. :p I have a good since of humor. At a fast food restaurant... (in the bathroom men or womens doesnt matter) In a long drive through line (mostly at the Jack in the box late nights) NO DRUGS AT ALL! I normally only talk to girls who have kids too! I know I sound sponge bob square pants but trust me, Im hella fun. Run my own business in the day time and like to have fun at night. I am 100% gentleman. Oh yeah, Im polygamous and a father of three so my time is precious to me So don’t waste mine and I won’t waste yours. I am 100% NO BULLSHIT. I am NOT into excuses. Be great or Be nothing, nobody, not remembered or rarely talked about. Well thats just about how I am and who I am. Any institutions using this site or any of its associated sites for studies or projects - You do NOT have my permission to use any of my profile or pictures in any form or forum both current and future. If you have or do, it will be considered a serious violation of my privacy and will be subject to legal ramifications. It is recommended that other members post a similar notice to this! I am Kevin (but call me Daddy) I'm 38 years old. I dont drink or smoke. I love to work out. I live to dominate a woman. Its my thing. I love every vampire movie that has ever come out and the books that came before them and also to study genius, to talk about and work on being more than what we are everyday. We travel, shop, we workout, make money, film and fuck. Join us. I did my own vampire movie (with all of my own money) https://drive.google.com/file/d/1mvJAQfouxHYUI2xXVUmYCYr6944c85U-/view?usp=drivesdk I just realized that I am really into making girls squirt at times that aren't supposed too. On certain bed spreads, in pants and panties etc. Not just on a towel anymore. And do try to resist, ugh this life is something else. I love it, I love it, I love it, I love it. Must be atleast 18. Oh yea, institutions you are not allowed to use my page for anything. And call me Daddy when you talk to me. I hope to hear from you. Join us -Daddy North Charleston, SC sex hookups! I'm trying to create a group for like minded individuals in the Charleston / North Charleston, South Carolina area who want to get together and fuck, suck, lick, and stick each other without all the usual drama and games that are played in the normal way that others are meeting each other thru. Let this be a forum in which we all meet, say "Hi and Hello" to each other; and then we get together for a hot and juicy sex session no matter what your sexual persuasion is. Whatever your likes are is welcome in this group.......the main goal is getting together and having sex again, just like it was before the time of Covid! Feel free to post pics and discussions. - North Charleston, SC sex hookups! 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I am very happy that you have invited me to spend a few days with you‚ knowing full well this is just a physical thing. But that is no reason for me not to make you feel as good as possible. You had offered to pick me up in town and get me to the farm‚ but I would rather surprise you. I arrive in town and am able to get directions to your place and am just beside myself as I drive to your place. It is fall‚ and the weather has gotten cold. Even though the temperature is getting cold‚ I am feeling very warm as I approach your farm. I drive up to your house and am just amazed this is the kind of place I have always dreamed of. But to be honest I am not sure I could handle all the work here unless I was to become a full time farmer. I walked up on the porch and knocked on the door. It is getting to be mid afternoon so I really am not expecting you to be in the house. This is fine because I would love to surprise you out in the barn and it seems that I may get my way. After a while of standing and knocking‚ there is no answer so I try the door. It opens and I call out for you just in case. I do not want to scare you‚ just surprise you. With no answer to my calls‚ I manage to find the kitchen and drop my bags out of the way. But I cannot help but stop and admire this fine house and in some cases wonder how some of my own antiques may fit in here. But‚ I finally get to the back door and can see the stables. I am thinking to my self that I hope you are out there tending to your horses. I walk toward the stables and am spotted by your dog‚ who does not know what to make of me just yet. I offer him a treat in the hopes he will come to me and not give me away just yet. He barks at me but not very loudly and I am glad that it seems you have not heard his barks or have chosen to ignore him for some reason. He finally calms down and takes the treat from my hand‚ deciding I am not a threat. I pat him on the head and pet him for a moment as I continue to make my way to the stables. I am able to approach the stables without being found out and am just to the left of the doorway sneaking peeks to see if I can determine where you are or if you are in there at all. I can hear you talking to the horse you are grooming and have also been able to determine the stall you are in. Part of me wants to sneak up behind you‚ slide my arms around your waist and kiss you on the neck. But I am sure the surprise of someone coming up behind you like that may frighten you or cause some other reaction that may result with me being in severe pain. I walk up slowly toward the stall. I am also glad that my presence is not spooking the horses. I am being careful to just be out of your usual field of view and yet hope you will catch a glimpse of me as I approach. I still may startle you‚ but it will not be as bad as me sneaking up behind you. I could not have planned it any better‚ just as I reach the stall doorway‚ you turn and see me. That beautiful smile tells me that you recognize me and are happy to see me. You set down your brush and come over to greet me‚ hugging my neck tightly. I wrap my arms around you and pick you up and at the same time you wrap your legs around me squeezing tight. After a few minutes of hugging and exchanging a few simple kisses and other pleasant greetings I let you down and you stand next to me. You explain the work that you still have to complete. I ask if I may help you complete your chores. It has been a long time but I think I remember how to groom‚ feed‚ and otherwise take care of a horse. Even though it would be quicker to move on to another horse‚ I would rather stay next to you and groom the horses together. I am very happy when you let me stick by you as I play a little game of being slightly naïve of just how to complete the tasks. While being careful to actually complete the job and keep you happy‚ I do go out of my way to get next to you as often as possible. I brush against you‚ stopping to kiss you on the cheek or neck as I pass by‚ and giving little hugs at every opportunity. The time goes quickly and I am happy to have been able to help you finish your chores and am so happy to be walking back to the house with my arm around your waist. Of course just as I have been doing since I first saw you today‚ I was sneaking looks at your ass and the rest of you as well just taking it all in. We’re dirty and truth be told neither of us smell like a bed of roses. As we approach the house‚ I explain finally how I got to your place and that I let myself in to put my bags on the floor. Once we are inside the back door and as we remove our coats I grab you pulling you in close and plant a long deep kiss on those sweet lips. As our lips part ways‚ you nuzzle into my chest and I was able t see you smile. It is a great feeling with you standing in front of me with your arms pulled in tight to your chest and you nuzzle in taking in the warmth and safety of my embrace. After a while‚ you tell me that you had not prepared anything for dinner and that you were not sure what to do. While I would love to watch and help you create something in the kitchen. It has been a long day and I think it would be nice to take this beautiful woman out to dinner and if she wishes we can go raise a little hell at the bar too. So‚ I suggest that we go to town for dinner and possibly more. You are agreeable to this and I think a little relieved that you do not have to do anything other then shower and get ready for a night out. Since I do not know anything about the restaurants‚ bars‚ or anything like that in your area I am completely at your mercy as to where we may go and how well dressed we will need to be. You help me take my bags to the bedroom and I am very pleased that you have led me straight to your room and not to some guest room. Once in the room‚ my first instinct is to grab you‚ tear your clothes off and just have nasty sweaty sex with you. But I really want this to be special. Besides there will be enough opportunities for just sweaty sex. So I start asking you about where we shall go in town and how I should dress‚ etc. Once all of that is settled‚ I get some clean clothes out of my suit case and lay them on the bed. Then as I turn again thinking where exactly is the bathroom so that I can shower‚ hopefully with you. Suddenly there you are standing in front of me really close wearing nothing but a towel. Holding the top of the towel in place with one hand you reach up with the free hand and grasp my neck as I lean in to kiss you deeply and passionately. Our lips part and I get to stare for a moment into those brown eyes. You give me that little smile as you take my hand and lead me to the bathroom. I close the door behind me as we enter the bathroom. Anticipating what is to come I am already rock hard and a little kiddy with the anticipation. I turn you around to face me quickly and you lose your grip on the towel. It falls to the floor and I pull you in close‚ so I can feel you close to me. We kiss again‚ and as we part lips this time you step back a little so that you can turn on the shower. I want to just strip down and pull you in there. But that will mean I cannot watch and take in the vision of your body there in front of me. You turn your attention to me and help me remove my clothes. First my shirt‚ and then my pants‚ it is no surprise to you that I have a hard on that is just aching to break free. I step out of my underwear and move over to you just before you step into the shower. You take a hold of my cock and after looking down for a moment you look up into my eyes and give that sweet grin of yours. We then slip into the shower together into the warm water. Your back is to the shower head and the water is running over your body as I hug you close and kiss your neck you lean back letting the water wet your hair. It seems a little like you ignore me for that moment‚ so I move you behind me as I bend forward slightly to wet my hair as well. All of it done playfully‚ you then smack me on the ass as I stand there slightly bent forward. This causes me to stand up and look at you slightly over one shoulder. Now is play time‚ getting the soap I start to massage and soap your body. You keep trying to get the soap from me‚ but I am having way too much fun exploring your body and kiss the parts that are not covered in soap. I stop long enough to lather up my chest and a couple of other spots so that you can let your hands do some wondering as well. It is not long until you have found your way to my cock‚ massaging it and my balls. I get so distracted by what you are doing I stop putting soap on you for a moment. But that ends‚ when you start telling me what you like and want. Oh how I love a woman who can tell me what and how she wants it. That means that I can spend more time actually giving her pleasure rather then trying to figure what she likes and possibly not pleasure at all. We take turns soaping and rinsing each other and as parts of our bodies are cleaned off. They are immediately given some much deserved attention. I position you under the water and slowly work my way down your body with my tongue and fingers. I stop to pay attention to your nipples‚ taking one in my mouth as I lightly pinch the other. I come back up just long enough for a kiss and then continue my journey. As I reach my knees‚ I first explore your pussy with my fingers as I kiss your stomach and hips. I can feel you getting wet and lose and now I am able to work two fingers into you. I glance up to see that you are enjoying the experience as you part your legs and throw one leg over my shoulder. Now‚ as the water cascades over you I am able to use my tongue on the lips of you pussy. You hips move in and out almost begging me to do more. I am not about to stop now‚ and begin parting those lips with my tongue wanting to get to your clit. I can tell immediately that I have hit a good spot as you back arches and grasping the back of my head you pull my mouth hard into your pussy. I have no idea what you are hanging onto‚ but you have managed to put both legs over my shoulders giving me better access to that sweet pink pussy. I continue to work you over with my tongue and fingers. It is not long before I am rewarded with the taste of your cum. You then remove your legs from around my neck and shoulders as I rise up to greet you. Eager to taste yourself on my lips you grab me and pull me in for a long kiss while stroking my cock once again. You manage to bring me to the edge of release only to stop just before I do. Oh‚ what a tease and I love it! Then you work your way down my body and in no time have my cock in your mouth‚ working it over. Again‚ just before I explode you stop. Damn! How do you know just when to stop? You start again this time working your finger between my legs and are massaging my anus. Oh‚ I am sure this time there will be no stopping me. I relax enough for you to work you finger just slightly into me while expertly working over my cock with your mouth and tongue. This time I have built up what I am sure will be a load that will not remain inside of me no matter what. All of sudden you stop and stand up in front of me and I am a little disappointed but at the same time exhilarated because I have never been teased so well. I pull you close kissing you again‚ long and hard‚ breathing like I have just ran a marathon. You wrap your legs around my waist‚ while also wrapping your arms around my neck as you hop up into my arms. I lower you down onto my cock‚ as I push you against the wall of the shower. It takes a few moments but I work my cock deep inside you as you begin to move up and down. Again I am denied my release as you hop off at the last moment. Shit! Are you psychic or something?! You turn and bend over offering you pussy to me again. Although I am seriously considering hitting that ass as I slap your ass checks repeatedly getting them nice and pink. I grab your hips and pull you in hard‚ plunging my cock into again. I am determined to cum this time and am not letting go till I do. As you begin to finger your clit as I plunge in and out of your pussy I am thinking‚ that I will achieve my goal. I can feel you getting ready to cum and want to pull out and deny you just as you have denied me‚ but I cannot. All at once you cum and I am determined to cum too‚ but you decide to cut your own pleasure short to deny me once again. What do I have to do to be able to cum? Damn! Suddenly we are rinsing off again and you are out of the shower. I am a little stunned‚ what is going to happen now? Am I supposed to finish my self off or what? I exit the shower with a hard on that is damn near painful now. You quickly towel off although not completely drying yourself. You throw a towel at me and tell me to hurry up as you exit the bathroom and move into the bedroom. If I could I would have just shook the water off like a dog so I could follow you quicker. But I can’t so I towel off while in hot pursuit of that ass I see hurrying toward the bed. You throw my clothes that were lying on the bed to the floor as you get between the sheets. I follow close behind you and slide up next to you as I look deeply into those eyes and even though I am so focused on your eyes I can see that sweet smile reflected in them. I pull your legs apart and slide between them and once again am buried in your pussy. I start slow‚ varying speed and angle‚ every so often thrusting hard and holding it in place for a slight moment. Then without withdrawing‚ I roll over onto my back pulling you on top of me. I must have hit the right spot as you begin to wildly thrust and ride my cock. You change positions often from lying on my chest to sitting straight up and arching your back. Then you sit hard down as far as you can onto my cock‚ thrusting your hips back and forth‚ you back arches again and you are about to explode. I am pushing in harder and matching your enthusiasm and speed while holding onto your hips again. There is NO way I am stopping this time. All at once we cum at the same time and I feel a rush of your juices washing over my cock and between my legs. You fall down next to me in bed smiling and caressing my chest as I hold you next to me. I cannot believe the feeling I have from being denied so many times only to finish like this. But before I can say anything else‚ apparently you have some unfinished business and you disappear below the sheets and begin to lick my cock and balls clean. I am once again hard and ready for action. This time you simply take my cock in your mouth and reward me by letting me cum again‚ swallowing the entire load. I reach down and bring you up so that I may kiss you tasting myself too. Now‚ I am truly speechless as you again lay next to me on the bed. Nothing is said for a few moments as we lay there snuggled up together just enjoying the warmth of our bodies next to one another. After a little while we finally start to talk again and are planning the rest of the night. We exit the bed and begin to dress. But I cannot help myself‚ I must caress you‚ kiss you‚ and other wise touch you. There is a lot more to this night. But that will have to come in part 2 of this story. Milestone Milestone · General · That is what it is, a milestone of life that requires something put into the bucket list. My forty fourth birthday, the entrenching realization of middle age setting in with a building sense of urgency to experience something or anything that can check mark a life with enough excitement to carry oneself for that long steep decline of age. Maybe a long ways to go, but I was bound and determined not to go gently into that good night. So I forced the issue, demanded to my family I needed to do something…anything. Thought about a cruise…everything was booked on the major lines for a year or so. Looked into an all-inclusive…the choices were slim, none for the bigger names, but found an opening in one obscure resort that actually got my blood moving. My husband said that I should do my research and then book it if I wanted, just make sure it would fit within our schedules. I booked it. Only problem was it would be tight for my husband. He was scheduled for a business trip that at the earliest would put him there late on the first day of the ten day reservation. And unfortunately, he would have to leave before the ten days were up. He told me, just in case, to book both of us on the flights as if we both could make it and if not, he would take alternative transportation and we would just eat the added cost. The resort sounded idyllic…nestled on a secluded area of a small pristine island in the Caribbean. Even though it seemed to be small there was the option of using an adjoining resorts facilities and entertainment events. The one caveat, the other resort was described as pretty risque…promoted their beach as a “clothing optional” area and called their events as “excitement for swingers at heart”. This raised the hair on the back of my neck…in a good way. Thought that this just might be the thing to spice up our lackluster sex life. My memory raced back ten years and pulled out a chapter in my life I never really shared, to my knowledge, with my husband. I had a three-month affair with a co-worker, he was fresh out of college and the company had me as his mentor before shipping him off to a territory. In reality, he mentored me. He might have been eight years my junior, but his eight inches had decades more experience than me. Never fails, even after ten years, the thought still excites me. Still, there is always the lingering guilt. Not necessarily the infidelity part, but the fact a month after he left, I had an abortion. Did not take much of a jump to know it was his, my husband had a vasectomy when I was pregnant with our fourth child. So it was obvious that the fetus was not his. So the thought of a hedonist resort next door got my juices going. Maybe my husband could be persuaded into a little extracurricular activity…and I could use it as an excuse to pursue my own illicit desires. I visualized myself with all kinds of different guys, in quite a few different scenarios. The weeks leading up to our trip pretty much wore out my vibrator. Then the planning of the trip started to hit speed bumps. My sister was going to “baby sit” my sons and daughters, but then her mother in law had an accident. Thankfully, after a week of stress, I found refuge with one of my friends. But Mark was without a place, or should I say, someone to watch over him. Granted, Mark was just about to turn eighteen, just so happens two days after my own birthday. When I would be on the island. Still, there was no way I would leave my man-child alone in my house. Already knew he was not a virgin, and without a doubt he had a lot of girls to choose from. I did not want him knocking up some girl and suffering the rest of his life. Five days before I was to leave, a friend from work offered to take him in. I was kind of skeptical, because at times Julie seemed to be just a little bit oversexed. Even though she was married, I had caught her looking at Mark as if she was a wolf salivating over a large steak. Or as she kept telling me, she was a Cougar on prowl for the next cub. The next day, my husband called…he would not be able to make it to the island until the middle of next week at the earliest. At best he would have maybe two full days. Great…maybe I should cancel too, ran through my mind, the disappointment must have resonated thru the phone. My husband caught it, and then he hesitantly suggested that I go on the trip. The rebuttal never made it past my larynx…my mind already envisioned myself as a wild animal feasting on tender flesh. All that escaped my mouth was a sharp grunt. It was not a grunt of objection. Still, he sounded conciliatory and then asked if Mark was taken care of because maybe he could go with. I quickly tried to think of an excuse, since I did not tell my husband about my fantasies or the neighboring resorts enticing assets. Shit…hell…I really wanted to go. Told him that I would ask Mark, but he probably would not want to go with his Mom. I was wrong. That evening Mark gave an exuberant, resounding yes to going. He read the brochures…and Mark being Mark, could not wait to check out the place next door. Even though that was my same intention…I shook at the thought of my son chasing naked women in my presence. But…if I wanted to go, guess Mark would have to tag along. Started to repack my stuff, did not think that I would need to bring some of my more intimate items, but then pulled out the string bikini I had bought for just this occasion. I thought about how I looked when I had tried it on…this might be the last time I could get away wearing something like this…hell, I flat out looked dynamite in it. To heck with it, son or no son, I was not going to let him stop me. It was just a little amusing when we checked in at the airport, the travel itinerary said Mr. and Mrs. We both laughed, but then again he is a Mr. and I am a Mrs. Joked about it during our travels too. Kind of played it up also, when they called us to the flight desk by Mr. & Mrs., we walked up with our arms around each other just to get a response. I got a positive wink and nod from the attendant behind the counter…then she leaned over and whispered in my ear. “I’m jealous…have fun with your cub”. Don’t know why, my vanity or whatever, but as we turned I grabbed Mark’s ass and gave it a squeeze knowing full well the attendant was watching. Mark jerked from surprise and then mouthed “what the hell, Mom”. I just playfully smiled back. When we got to the resort and checked in, we were still listed as Mr. & Mrs. But when the gal asked for our room preference, I said two beds. She looked quizzically at me and then mentioned that the only room left with two beds is the special needs one. Great…put a cripple out or share a bed with my son. I asked, “King size?” Glad I did it, our room was awesome, the double doors opened up to the beach. The other resort fence was not more than a few feet from our porch. The iron gate that separated the properties was only twenty feet away, the open bars offered a tantalizing peek into the hedonic environment. Just on the other side of the gate, a muscular man standing totally unembarrassed…completely nude, his gorgeous penis swinging in front of him as he talked with buxom naked woman. I could not take my eyes off of them, I was mesmerized…so was my son. Then he talked, “Wow…nice tits…this room is fantastic”. I hit him in the arm and feigned anger, “Mark…that is not something you say in front of your Mother!” “Oh, I am sorry, “ he faked having any remorse; “you have nice ones too”. “Nice what?” I had thought for a second I might have heard him wrong. “Tits…you have nice tits too, Mom”. “Mark…I am your Mom…stop it. Anyway, how would you know?” I quickly scanned my memory banks just in case. “Just guessing”…then slipped in, “but I am sure I’ll find out”, as he tilted his head towards our neighbors. I was just a little flabbergasted, but to be honest, a little proud that my just about eighteen-year-old son thought of his mother being able to hold her own. I quickly took stock of the room. It was not laid out for those with even a smitten of humility. There was a large tub, big enough for multiple people, totally exposed in the corner of the room, right along side a glassed in shower stall. Thought that there had to be a bathroom somewhere. Sure enough there was one, but behind the door was just a toilet and sink. Suppose that I would be using the fresh water shower down at the beach…no way I would use these in front of my son. Mark must have correctly read my consternation, a goofy smile stretched across his face as he looked at the tub and then at me. “Not in a million years, bucko”, I intentionally spit out to make sure he did not get the wrong idea. His face contorted into a pout. “Jeez Mark…I am your Mother for Christ’s sake” but I was actually amused at his reaction. At this point of time, there was not a deviant consideration in any way or form regarding the possibility of even remotely contemplating something physical happening between my son and I. But…this short back and forth, his expressions and my verbal responses were in a playful mode. So my antenna never went up in defense so to speak. Ok…we were settled in and I wanted to go to the beach, have a cocktail, unwind a bit from ten hours of total travel time. “I do not know what you want to do, but I am going to relax on the beach” I said more to myself than Mark. I grabbed my suit, hesitated when the skimpiness of it hit me, then told myself what the hell and went into the bathroom to change. Putting on my, err...my suit if you can call it that, as was obvious in my reflection of the mirror that this attire would not be socially acceptable around children back home. Especially considering one of them could possibly be my almost adult son. Heck, the small triangles covering, barely covering enough of my breasts to hide most of my areola’s, did nothing to leave the size of each of tits to the imagination. My full “C” cup mounds were pretty much out there for display. I wondered for a second if the small strings had enough tensile strength to hold them up. Scanning down and making a slight twist…the string running between my legs and up my ass crack was nowhere in sight. Fortunately, for my age, my exposed ass cheeks still had enough firmness, so as not to look as though I had saddlebags dragging behind me. As I turned back… even though I had thought I had trimmed and shaved my lower part back home, the small tuft of hair on my pubic mound could be seen just above the couple square inch patch of cloth covering me down there. Shit…too late now. I pulled the bottoms off, lathered up a little and with only three of four passes with my razor…my vaginal area reverted back to pre puberty. Gathered myself up and opened the door. I do not know who was more surprised. Mark apparently had decided late that he could quickly change into his swimsuit and figured by standing in front of the bathroom door, he could block it just in case. That did not happen, I swung the door harder than anticipated, it hit him in the head just as he was bending over to pull up his swimsuit. He went down on his back…his swimsuit around his ankles. My son’s penis flopped in an arch to his belly; I could not stop my eyes from focusing on it. My God, my son’s dick is bigger than his father’s is all that came to mind. Then it started to grow. Mark’s mouth was gapping open…he…he was staring almost in a mesmerizing way. Yet his eyes coursed over my torso…then I realized my jaw was slack too…Holy Shit…my son’s cock was now rigid…it had to be close to my ex lover’s…I shook my head coming to my senses. This all happened in less than a minute. I gurgled out, “Ah…sorry, should not have opened the door so fast. Uhmm…let me get out of your way” as I stepped over him. In and effort to not step on him…had to look, my eyes automatically went back to his cock. My psyche tried in vain to supplant morality for the lustful vision of my own son’s penis floating in my brain. Damn…I needed a drink. Made it down to the beach, spread a towel on a beach chaise, adjusted my sunglasses, and got comfortable. The first daiquiri soothed the quandary of my conflicting thoughts and started me on the path to ignoring some of my inhabitations. I rationalized that maybe my multiple week build up of expectations might have triggered some psychosis, so to get my mind off of “that” penis started to recon my surroundings. From my vantage point, not fifty feet from the wall separating the two resorts, I had an almost unrestricted view away from the neighbors, but towards the neighbors the wall blocked the angle to seeing more than a few feet of their beach. I actually thought about moving the chaise closer to the shore in hopes of visually intruding on their privacy. With a warm humor coursing through at the deviant thought, could not help but smile. But, better check out the locals first. Most of the patrons, from my resort, seemed to be a hundred or so yards away, accept two couples that were maybe twenty yards away. Noticed the two guys as I was originally walking onto the beach when one of them elbowed the other and nodded in my direction. It fed my ego immensely and it was all I could do so as to not let on. Thankfully my large, dark sunglasses allowed me to check them out without them knowing. As I settled in with my second daiquiri I had assessed the couple to be beyond the honeymoon stage and before the children raising stage at most in their late twenty’s. The two women were so engrossed in their own conversation; they completely ignored their two male partners standing with drinks their hands a couple of feet into the turf. Did not take much of a leap of logic to know that from the two guys vantage point, they had a direct line of sight to the “clothing optional” beach next door. From my standpoint, they appeared to swivel their heads in my direction more often than down the beach. Could not help but to check them out, mid to late twenties and physically fit, there was much to see. Let my mind wander as to what they might look like without their hip hanging swimsuits…where they hung? You think they would be interested in a “older” woman? Wonder if they would be interested in a threesome? That thought came out of nowhere…had never contemplated having two guys at once. The thought tickled my senses right down my spine. My nipples tightened at the thought. A quick glance at the women, they were completely in oblivion, and with the help of liquid encouragement I stood up and walked towards the water. Could have just gone right in front of me as I could feel their eyes capturing my every move. But…what the hell, let’s see just how interested they really are up close. So I altered my path to within feet of them, making sure that my movements yielded more sway than necessary and not in anyway disguising my sexual intent. My nipples were in full erection and had their full attention as I approached. While walking by, in a very planned move, I turned my head towards them lifted my sunglasses and checked out the front of their swimsuits. Raising my head I gave each a smile and wink then broke into the surf. The water was extremely warm, but felt good and still cooled down my libido a tad. Could not help feel a little of accomplishment at seeing the tents rise in those complete strangers. Movement to my left caught my attention, it was a couple over at the other resort, and even though they were quite a distance away…there was no question as to what they were doing. His back was slightly turned towards me but I could see her, and one copious tit bouncing unencumbered to each thrust he made into her. My audience was distracted…do not know what made me think they were “my” audience or why I should even care, but like a little kid throwing a tantrum for attention, I had to do something. I pulled off my skimpy top, stood up, and rubbed my tits as if they were covered in sand and I was cleaning them. It got their attention; I slowed the rubbing, their eyes glued to my chest. Brought a devious smile to my face…then to theirs. Did not last long, one of their women saw what was going on. She barked in a not so pleasant manner…like puppy dogs both the guys turned and shuffled back towards them, their heads down as if in guilt. Even from this distance, I could feel the daggers of anger coming from the eyes of the women. Oh well…so much for that. Returned my attention to the couple obviously fucking in the surf. Like a bug to a light, my feet moved me closer to them, my curiosity greater than my caution. As their details came into focus, my feet froze. The female was the one that Mark and I saw by the gate, she had to be at least my age or greater…the guy…it was Mark! I did not know how to handle this…was I jealous? Not because of my son necessarily, but more from me being extremely horny from teasing a couple of guys. All of which I knew deep down, due to the condition of having their female partners right there, nothing would have come from it. And here my son was, getting what in my mind was the real reason I wanted this trip. God damn, this woman…she was living my fantasy, not of my son but a young cock plying its hard youthful strength deep into her vagina…and not mine! Like stuck in a state of suspended animation, I just watched. She was driving down more and more violently as my son reciprocated, her head thrown back to the sky. Mark was peppering her neck, upper chest, with nibbling pecks. Then he closed around her nipple…pulling it between his teeth. I shivered at the thought of someone doing the same to me… Her breathing, even noticeable from my distance, had changed to gulping…then she arched hard against my son. My God…she just climaxed. Mark just froze and held her…did he cum too? A few minutes passed, they were still enjoined, her head now resting on his shoulder catching her breath. I could see Mark’s lower torso start almost imperceptibly to oscillate. The woman made a small whimpering sound. His oscillating movement was now interjected with an occasional thrust. She coughed up a grunt. On the second thrust, she raised her head, her arms around Mark’s neck. Their lips connected and by the third thrust they were locked into a full embrace. I watched as the crescendo built, first it was a few oscillations to every thrust, but as minutes passed, it was down to one each. My one hand was now between my legs, rubbing my fully swollen clit. I was not thinking from the stand point that that was my son fucking, it was just a cock that should be in here…as I stabbed as deep into my cunt as I could while rubbing my clit with my thumb. Any pretense of him oscillating his hips were now gone…he was just pounding, hard and long strokes as deep as he could into her. She was back to gulping air, her fingers digging into Mark’s shoulder. He definitely did not care. Just a few strokes later, could have been more but my own orgasm washed over me, a unfiltered screech came from her mouth as she arched her back at the same time my son arched his and growled grunts in conjunction with each spasm of his tightening ass cheeks. I came with the thought of each jettison of that man gunk spraying the inside of my womanhood. Their uncoupling was as if in slow motion, the woman dropping her suspended legs back into the surf. My son’s, still swollen, but semi flaccid, cock plopping out from between her thighs…a glistening string of goo reflecting in the bright sun. The woman saw me; a smile broke across her face. She reached down and held my son’s still ample cock as if offering it to me. Mark turned his head in the direction her attention, a moment of confusion on his face, a split second of guilt, then a slight smirk as his eyes cascaded down the front of me. My hand was still between my legs…the bottom of my swimsuit nowhere near me. An immediate flush of embarrassment came over me. I turned and made quick movements to the shore…my bottoms had washed up to the waters edge, I just grabbed them and a towel to wrap around me as I hurriedly made my way to our room. An hour later, my composure somewhat recovered, I was sitting on a chair when Mark came back in. The previous hour had started with dealing with my embarrassment to finishing with how I was going to deal with Mark’s apparent voyeurism. Any thought of using the emotion of embarrassment on Mark was immediately dispelled when Mark walked in. He was completely naked. His relatively large cock just swinging in front of him. He made absolutely no attempt to cover up; in fact he was making it a point to give me total views of it. I tried to look away, but he stood directly in front of me, his hunk of meat in my peripheral vision. “Mark…is it necessary to hang that thing out in front of your Mother?” There was just a little of an edge to my tone. “Why do you say that, is there something wrong with it?” He was being sarcastically immature. I was about to get defensive and lay the Mom thing on him. “Seriously Mom…I know that back home this would be considered all wrong, but next door, they say we are too hung up on nudity…that it is natural and we should not be ashamed of it. Don’t you agree? I mean…well, I saw you at the beach…uh, before and after you saw me.” I could feel my face flush, where was he going with this? “What do you mean…before?” I consciously wanted to avoid the incident involving my involuntary masturbation…and then getting caught. “Come on Ma, it was obvious to anyone you were trying to get those two guys attention. I mean really, you made sure they got an eyeful every time you moved”. “What are you talking about?” I was feigning ignorance. “Mom, you parked yourself right under the security cameras”. Oh shit…that is why the portion of the beach is almost empty. Mark continued, “tell you what, you have nothing to be ashamed about…you are one hot looking chick”. I could feel myself blush…apparently compliments work. “By the way, told you that you have nice tits!” Ugh…mental conflict spun in my head. All for compliments…but it is one thing to have my kid say I am a hot looking chick, but to actually point out sexual assets…never mind, stroked ego over decency every time. A “uhm…thanks” slipped out of my mouth. Not realizing I was staring directly at his penis dangling in front of me. He knew it, “Most of the people around here seem to keep themselves bare down there, like you,” so much for keeping the after out of this conversation “do you think I should shave it off?” God…what the hell does a Mother say? “It is up to you…” “Then why did you do it?” Am I really having this conversation with my son…who is standing just a couple of feet in front of me with a cock at least half again as big as his Father? “It is cleaner this way…and for appearances” Should have said something about appearance in my swimsuit or underwear…didn’t have a chance though. “Oh...you were planning on being nude…I must get it from you. Can I see?” I was just slightly flustered…not only from the audacity of his question, but the implication apparently was causing blood to rush to his extremity. I actually think he might be as large as my ex-lover… “Err…NO…for Christ’s sake, Get that thing away from your Mother”. Tried to sound authoritative with a hint of disgust…he saw right through it. “I’m going into the whirlpool…you can join me if you want” he said with slight laugh. “Don’t really think that would be right…but thanks for the offer.” I said in a very dilatory way. Took him twenty minutes to get the whirlpool up to temp before he climbed in…it did look relaxing and the swirling, bubbling water did cover him pretty much. Ah…what the heck, we don’t have one at home…I’ll wear my swimsuit…he is under the water. A glass of wine and relax. Mark had a shit eating grin when he saw me place my full wine glass in the cup holder. “Don’t get your hopes up kiddo…I am wearing my suit” I said jovially. Then I remembered that my Suit was sent down with the laundry and I would not get it back until the morning. Ah shit…”Mark…turn your head and do not look” I said with authority and meant it. I dropped my robe and started to climb in…Mark was looking the other way. At my totally nude reflection on the window! I slid into the water. “Damn Mom…you are even better up close!” “Don’t get any ideas, kid” even though a warm flush coursed through my body. Caught him checking our my tits every once in awhile but it did not bother me too much, could have been the wine taking affect or maybe I just did not care as our conversation went from banal to the event of the day. “You didn’t waste anytime meeting the neighbors did you?” this was precipitated by my curiosity and knew it would lead to where I wanted to go. “Nope, right after you left to sit on the beach, George from next door came over. Just to let you know…he was looking for you. Since you were already gone, he invited me over” Mark emphasized the “he was looking for you” part. “So I took him up on it” Mark was in story telling mood, as if he was discussing a camping trip, “When I told him I was only seventeen, but would be eighteen in a few days, he said that in this country sixteen is the magic number”. “What do you mean?” Was that the age of majority or just as far as sex goes? “Girls can get married at twelve with court permission, fifteen without. Guys at fourteen with court permission and at sixteen anything goes”. “So… was that woman?” my curiosity was pegged. A big smirk came across his face, “You mean Mary Anne?” “What do you mean? There was more than one?” had trouble controlling my emotion, my son is a frick’n slut? Not even contemplating the fact I was sitting with my naked kid with my naked body inches from his oversize dick. Ok…maybe I was aware of it. “Uh…yeah…but Mary Anne was the one I was with when you saw me”. “Who is she? Thought she looked a little old for you.” “Not really…she is only four or five years older than you”. If this was a compliment…it worked. Mark continued unfazed as to the shot of adrenaline that weaved from my glands to my bottom, “She is a school teacher from our state believe it or not…always dreamed about doing a teacher,” I think everyone has had that fantasy at one time or another; personally had a crush on my English teacher in High School…but our ages were much closer. Let’s see eighteen and forty-four or forty-five…I could feel my pores open up in my vagina at the thought. “Mary Anne had her boobs done awhile back and wanted an adventure before she got too old…guess I was or am part of it”. Damn…did that hit a spot of understanding! Not the boob part, but the last dance concept. Maybe I have a few years. “Is that it?” “Pretty much…unless you want the details” Apparently he wanted to go that route because he just continued not waiting for my response. He explained how as soon as he went next door, Mary Anne came and introduced herself as the one we both saw at the gate and asked about what the relationship was between him and me. Turned out that she also was on a similar vacation, she was there with her daughter, Crystal. Mark explained that he and I did not have that type of relationship. Apparently Mary Anne responded with a “too bad”. I wondered for a second if Mark was really repeating her or was expressing wishful thinking. After an initial flush feeling…I internally admonished myself for thinking that way. Mark continued as to how Mary Anne convinced him to “bare all”, which wasn’t too hard as once he looked around he knew he would not be embarrassed. But when he took his swimsuit off, she got all google eyed and after swiping his suit away from him she kind of embarrassed him by calling attention to his private parts in front of everyone. It dawned on Mary Anne at that point she had to make him comfortable. She took Mark to a slightly more private area, the area where the privacy cameras could be seen. He recognized me at the beach and pointed me out to her. Mary Anne told him that I was hot and if he had ever thought about he and I having sex. Unconsciously I leaned forward in anticipation of what his response was…don’t think he noticed, I didn’t myself. I wondered if my daughter and I would be this candid about this stuff…had to be a first for a Mom and son. He said that he mumbled an answer, whereas Mary Anne took that as a yes and instead of giving him a chance to refute her, she animatedly pointed to my actions as being in need of a good fucking. Based on the video. The whole time, Mary Anne was fondling his penis. “Mom, to be honest…watching you, listening to Mary Anne, her doing what she was doing to me…well, when Mary Anne stood up and sat on me…I could only hold out so long.” I wondered if he was implying that I had anything to do with his reaction. He continued. It had happened so quickly, Mary Anne did not have enough so she asked him if he had ever-felt fake boobs before and let him investigate with his hands, his mouth, and one thing led to another…they ended up out in the surf where I saw them. “Who were the other ones?” Not only my libido was stoked, so was my nefarious curiosity. “Only one…it was Denise”. He sounded like that was going to be it, but I was not going let it stop now. “So…explain Denise” I was adamant in getting a response. Mark hesitantly began; Mary Anne and he had gone back to festivities at the resort after their extracurricular activity in the water when Mary Anne was summoned to the office for a phone call. Mary Anne handed him off to Denise to complete the tour…Denise was interesting in that it was the first time he had actually been around a pregnant naked female. He said that even though she was showing pretty good, she told him that she was in her seventh month; she also had a very sexy aurora around her. Mark wondered out loud whether or not Denise not being much older than him, she was maybe in her mid-twenties and had a gorgeous face. Anyway, Denise told him that she was on her delayed honeymoon, patting her belly as if that was the condition needed for the honeymoon. Then she just flat told him she was going to have sex with him. He worried that he might hurt the baby…but Denise did something no other one had done to him. She went down on him. “Holy shit!” escaped from my mouth, the thought of almost eight inches of cock in my throat stunned me. No way she could take the whole thing. “Really Mom…took a few times…but she actually got the whole thing in her mouth. I…I could actually feel my…my cock in her throat. She put my hands on her neck so I could feel it going in and out!” Mark said excitedly…I moved my leg over one of his and accidentally rubbed his cock…I wanted to hesitate…shit, I wanted to feel it, see it…but, I did not. I wondered what it would feel like in my throat…and I have only given maybe ten or so blow jobs in my life. “Did you?” “Yep… could not hold back…right down her throat!” he was really excited about this. He said that Mary Anne never came back and Denise needed to do something so he started back here. Where he ran into Crystal, Mary Anne’s daughter. Even though he was naked…his suit disappeared, Crystal was fully clothed and just coming back from a sight seeing trip. This did not bother her at all. Mark’s tone changed…I surmised that Crystal made a different impression. He told me that Crystal was roughly his age and just had a fantastic personality. So why didn’t he pursue her I thought…was he worn out? In the next statement the reason became apparent, Crystal was at her time of the month and the resort does not allow the “Clothing optional” thing during that time. Then he announced that he told Crystal he would like to sight see too. Tomorrow they are going to the caves on the other side of the island. Good I thought, maybe I can take advantage of that…my vagina moistened at the thought, my brain switching back to horny mode. “So Mark, does a fake boob feel any different from a real one…of the same size?” It was a spontaneous question coming from the flash in my head of Mark talking about Mary Anne’s. Subconsciously I might have had an ulterior motive, but it was not dawning on me. “Uh?…uhm, don’t know…never really compared them”, but Mark’s eyes betrayed him, he focused on the top of my tits. I obliged and raised my chest out of the water. Knew full well this was wrong, but slid forward pulling Mark’s bent left leg between my spreading thighs while at the same time putting his hands on my tits. His jaw dropped and for a moment thought he was going to pull back. “They’re just tits Mark…what do you think…are they the same?” Can’t believe I was doing this, trying to even sound clinical. I wanted him to fondle, squeeze, twist,…hell I was ready to fucking rape him! He tentatively squeezed…then a bit more, the apprehensive look on his face turned to a more serious look…he was getting into it. My nipples yearned to be pulled…he did. I slid a little closer, Mark’s chin touched my cunt…a shock ran through my body making me jerk suddenly. My leg mashed against his balls and cock…sonofabitch…me being the bitch…in heat on top of that. I started reaching for that cock…completely ambivalent as to what I was about to do to my own son. Then the phone rang…the loud ring breaking through the fog of desire, the moment broken. Still I jumped out of the tub without a thought of humility…my naked body totally exposed to my son…I did not care. Until I picked up the phone and morality slammed me in the head. It was my husband, Mark’s father. I covered up with a towel as if there were eyes in the phone. The thought of getting caught by my husband with our son sent shivers through me. Mark on the other hand, had no vestige of humility, he climbed out, dried off, and throwing the towel in a corner then sat spread eagle in a chair facing me. That wondrous cock was in full display. My husband inquired into how our trip was going, if we had settled in. It dawned on me that Mark and I had only been here one day…seemed a lifetime ago, no that we had two different lives. Then he asked if Mark and I had anything exciting planned together. I lied and told him nothing yet instead of saying, “I was minutes away from fucking our son’s eyes out”. Then he asked to talk to Mark. When I handed the phone to Mark…he kind of blocked me in between the wall and the bed. I could not get around him unless I touched him. He saw that I was a little nervous about being that close…especially him being naked, me being naked under a towel, and his dad on the phone inches away. He was also expressing that smart-ass smirk as he listened to what ever his dad was saying. Knowing that I could not move without disrupting the conversation, I relaxed slightly. Mark caught that immediately and his had thrust under the towel grasping my left tit. To resist would have been futile and my surprised body jerk caused the towel to fall to the floor. He kneaded, then squeezed, slowly pulling towards my nipple. He turned to his right…his cock was right there…it was rigid. I fought the urge to grab it…did I want to push it away…or was I going to return the favor. I returned the favor…his body jerked in response to my mouth encapsulating the end of his dick. A head so big, it stretched my mouth. How in the hell did Denise get this monster all the way in? The thought that this was my son’s dick…coupled with the knowledge he was on the phone with his dad…the taboo of the whole situation overcame any thought of physical limitation. The end of his cock was now at the back of my mouth, my thorax slowly spreading as I pulled him further in. The body of his wonderful cock entered my larynx…moving down my throat. I had to breath, released just enough to let the air from my nostrils pass into my lungs, and then plunged that whole sausage deep into my throat. My lips buried into his pubic hairs. Ah ha! Had that fucking huge cock of my son entirely in my body! Morality be damned…it was mine. My senses were all encompassing around that huge dick in my mouth, but as if in a different room a I could hear one side of a conversation. “Yea dad…yea I know Mom is a hot looking woman” “Don’t worry…uh (he humped my throat), I’ll take care of her”. Mark held my head with one hand and thrust three or four times, his cock reaching the end of my throat on the pull back and then pushing deep into my throat. I have never deep throat ed anyone, at least not like this…but my hunger for his cock, over came any resistance. “Dad…I will give her what she needs…yea, yea…uhm” Mark froze and a hot string ejected from his cock almost straight into my stomach. I caught my breath in each stroke…more strings, all but one deep within me. The last emptied in my mouth, salty, thick, and yet creamy…only the second time in my life that I tasted semen after the first time when I told myself never again. Now I wanted more. That minute delay in the phone conversation apparently did not register to my husband as Mark finally broke his silence, “Yea sure dad…I’ll put her back on…she just had some cream, give a sec to swallow”. Then handed me the phone. It was short…he would not be able to make it at all and take care of Mark just like he asked Mark to take care of me. The first day of my vacation was almost over. 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