happy to see her daughter’s boyfriend. Brenda was out,
but she invited him in any way. Always happy to see his
young handsome face around the house, she brought him into
the kitchen and began talking to him, neglecting to
mention Brenda was probably gone for the afternoon. So
was her husband and son. All were off doing other things,
leaving poor Mrs. Walsh home alone to fend for herself.
She had been doing just that too. She had been doing
luandry when she accidently bumped against the washing
machine. Remembering times past, she began masturbating
on the machine in minutes. Her shorts were around her
ankles, panties askew, fingers working their magic when
the doorbell rang.
Reluctantly she climbed off the washing machine,
zipped up and went to the door. Five minutes later she
was sort of happy she had. Dylan had jogged over to the
house and he was wearing a tight t-shirt and short thigh
hugging shorts. Mrs. Walsh had never found his body very
appealing, always wondering what her daughter saw in the
boy, but with a sheen of sweat and a tight pair of
drawers, she could see what got Brenda going. It was
getting her going too. Soon she was locked in the dilema
of talking to the boy for hours or finding a way to get
him out the door so she could masturbate about his young
body. She felt a bit perverted thinking of her daughter’s
boyfriend that way, but she had fantasized numerous times
about her son’s friends.
“Mrs. Walsh, I’m really sweaty, is there any chance I
can borrow your shower. I don’t want to stink up your
house.”
Her heart leapt at the thought of the boy naked in
her house. why shower, she wondered. She liked the way
he smelled right then and there. But she also liked the
idea of letting him use the shower though because while
his shower was going, she could entertain herself. She
led him to Brenda’s room, telling him to use her shower.
She returned to the bathroom with towels, hoping to cathc
him shirtless and he was. Unlike her husband, his body
was still very firm and almost hairless. Mrs. Walsh felt
a warmness in her loins and she hurriedly excused herself,
beelining for her room where her shorts and undies fell
and her fingers played their magic.
After her orgasm she passed by the room, noting that
the shower was not running anymore. She suddenly realized
the poor boy had no clothes to change into. Although his
running around naked was a fine idea from her point of
view, a seventeen year old naked would get her in major
trouble. She grabbed some clothing from her son’s room
and knocked on her daughter’s door. There was no answer,
…End of the part1. To be continued..
Archive for August, 2008
Mrs Walsh opened the door and was shocked and very
Saturday, August 30th, 2008Three Close Friends
Monday, August 25th, 2008
The three were good friends, as good as friends could be. Jane and
Rita had met in the sixth grade. Ben, he had always seemed to be there,
like a brother or a cousin. He lived in a house up on the hill, the two
girls lived at the foot. They could party together, talk together, or just
be together.
Jane wasn’t beautiful, but she had a way with men. Her long, light
brown hair and ready smile attracted men. She went through boyfriends like
most people went through twinkies. It was uncommon for her to show up
anywhere with the same guy twice. Every man seemed to have a crush on her,
or have had one at one time. Rita was different; she had one boyfriend for
the past year, Chas. Chas was a football player who had originally been
going out with Jane. He was tall, dark haired and dark eyed. He instantly
entranced Rita with his charm and masculinity. Jane and Ben were afraid;
they knew Chas’s reputation and were afraid that Rita might get hurt.
One weekend, Ben’s parents had left for a week to go to Hawaii. Ben
was sitting around the house, waiting for one of his friends to call him
for a party. He was careful not to let anyone know his parents were
gone–parties were fine, but he didn’t want to clean up afterwards. His
thoughts turned to his girlfriend, Tracy. She had dumped him when she
moved. Ben tried to take it philosophically, but his heart wouldn’t let
him. He wished that his emotions were more like Jane’s. The phone rang.
“Hi?” he answered.
“Ben? Are your parents gone?” It was a measure of how close Ben was
to Jane to let her know this.
“Yeah… Why? You sound upset.”
“We need to use your house.”
“We?”
“Yeah. Chas just dumped Rita.”
“Come on over.” Ben knew what this meant. Rita was so in love with
Chas that she would probably be suicidal with grief. Rita’s parents would
be unsympathetic. A typical comment form them would be “that’s what you get
for dating a jock”. Jane’s parents were probably throwing another party.
They were great at partying. Unfortunately, they were not very quiet
parties. Ben’s house was the only place were they could console Rita.
Jane met Rita at the door. Her fair skin was red from crying. When
she entered the rainy night, the tears were lost. Jane tossed a portion of
her yellow parka over Rita’s red hair. Rita just grabbed Jane around the
shoulder. They climbed the hill to the Mansion-the house were Ben lived.
The steps that ran along the driveway were narrow and difficult to
negotiate in the sunlight, much less on a rainy night. Lightning brightened
the scene for a moment, then thunder lashed the couple. They hurried until
they reached the gate.
“He dumped me for Trisha. She has bigger tits.” said Rita.
“It’ll be all right…”
Jane punched in the code and the gates opened, revealing the final
climb to the Hofsteader Mansion. It was a large, Victorian type structure
that had been added on to each successive generation of Hofsteader. Many of
…End of the part1. To be continued..
It was the late in the summer of 19 when I first became acquainted with Steven
Friday, August 22nd, 2008Circumstance had provided us the opportunity to work together, a collaboration
which culminated in a slick bit of legal craftsmanship which had all the
hallmarks of a jurisprudential masterpiece, at least when viewed by someone who
could appreciate the invisible strings we fashioned to manipulate a sensitive
artistic universe. Raising a toast of some rather exquisite champagne, Steven
and I indulgently acknowledged our own handiwork, well aware that our finest
accomplishment lay in the fact that no one outside the room would ever really
appreciate our delicate touch. If things went as planned, we laughed, they would
never even realize we had been there.
One bottle from Steven’s extensive cellars led to another, and we spoke that day
at great length, in ways our work had never allowed. Working together had been a
great joy for both of us, I like to think, because Steven and I shared a sense of
focus which meant every working hour of those two months had been devoted solely
to the task at hand. I’m almost ashamed of the single-minded intensity that I
dedicate to my tasks, although I know no other fashion of approaching a problem,
but all too often the obsessive devotion I suffer in the course of a serious
project has cost me bitterly, both in my professional and personal relationships.
Yet with Steven, for once, it had been different. He was every bit as
concentrated as I had ever been. With a grin, I might even admit that he could
turn the flame a notch or two further than I. How could I not enjoy the company
of a man who not only appreciated my tendencies, but challenged me to demand more
of myself? As neglected as our subtle monument would be, I took great pride in
knowing that Steven understood. We raised another toast, and again, until the
sun slipped orange beyond the dark wooded acres of Steven’s estate.
Those two months, dedicated as they were to the definition and protection of the
intangible property rights of visual artists, taught me a great deal about a
subject I had really never paid any mind. I understood the vagaries of copyright
in the abstract, and had done the cursory rounds through several great galleries
during my travels, but before that summer, art remained a decorative item for me.
In fact, the work we did with the Foundation did much to increase my exposure
and augment my vocabulary, but Steven provided the catalyst which turned on the
light.
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Champagne had led to Chablis which led to a Chardonnay “we simply have to share”,
to a special unlabelled bottle from a tiny Swiss monastery to a very old bottle
of Scotch and the tenth hour of our celebration had warmed my spirits into a
pleasant sense of incautious confidence.
“What it really boils down to,” I said, pretending wisdom, “is that much of the
work that is being done in this country derives again from European influences.”
Steven smiled, distracted. He put down his glass and leaned forward, his high
brow slightly wrinkled.
“I don’t think we go very far describing an artist’s work in terms of
influences,” Steven said. “There is always an evolution of linguistic terms, so
to speak, but language is a living component of our expression. Substance always
triumphs over form, yet without comprehensible forms, the expression becomes
lost.”
I remember listening carefully, because I respected Steven more than anyone I had
ever known. Part of me had always believed the arts perpetrated a fraud, that a
conspiracy of critics and galleries operated to decide one piece would be
valuable and another would not. To me, a painting was pretty or it was not. The
rest sounded like poppycock. Yet Steven seemed to believe.
“I want to show you something,” Steven said and with my assent, he led me
upstairs to a large room I calculated to be his study. The south wall of the
grand space was almost entirely built of glass, windows that seemed to draw in
the broad reaches of landscape, the small pond, the gentle roll of pasture, the
…End of the part1. To be continued..
dickie
Wednesday, August 20th, 2008Archive-author:
Archive-title: Continuing Adventures of Dickie Dunkin
EPISODE #1 ” THE DAIRY QUEEN”
Well, dear reader, welcome to the wonderful(and erotic) world of Dickie
Dunkin. How do I know it’s so wonderful? That’s easy I’m Dickie Dunkin.(That’s
not my real name but then again neither are any of the other names your about to
read.) The stories your about to read are so of my favorite experiences. Or at
least it’s the way I remember them…
I had been working in a Real Estate office in a small town in New Jersey
and as was the usual custom on slow days I was playing Gin with Joe the salesman
whose desk was immediately behind mine. As we played I failed to notice the two
women who had entered the office behind me. We put the game on hold and Joe
stood up to greet the women, who by this time, were already walking toward us.
As I turned to face my own desk I glanced at them. There was a tall brunette,
whom Joe seemed to know, and a short blonde. My eyes immediately locked onto the
blonde. She was slim with a pair of green eyes the likes of which I had never
seen in my life. She was wearing a white uniform and my first impression was
that she was a nurse. I was wrong. Her hair was long and flowed down over her
shoulders where the seemingly endless cascade of golden hair stopped to rest on
her more than ample bust, about a size 38D. She had a narrow waist and a nicely
rounded pair of hips. There was a slight curve to her belly and a most visible
and pronounced pubic mound. Her legs were shapely although very muscular. Joe
introduced them to me. The brunette was Ann and the blonde was Rose. I
acknowledged and returned to my desk to busy myself with some trivial things so
it wouldn’t appear that I was eavesdropping. It seemed that Rose was trying to
sell her Soft Ice Cream business and Ann had brought her in to meet Joe with the
hopes that he could help. After filling out the necessary paperwork Joe asked me
to give the girls my opinion of what I thought the potential was. Of course
after having overheard everything I was able to backup everything that Joe had
told them, and even told them that I might have a client who could possibly be
interested. Of course nothing was further from the truth. Rose seemed to be
extremely greatful to hear such encouraging words and I told her I would be in
touch in a day or so. As they left I couldn’t help but check out Rose’s ass as
she walked toward the door. Nice ass.
That night when I got back to my apartment I couldn’t keep Rose’s vision
out of my head and soon found myself with a first class hard-on from thinking
about what I would do with her if I had her alone. I decided that I would call
the next day to get to know her better.
When I dialed the phone I felt my heart pound with anticipation as the
phone rang the first time.
“Hi Soft and Creamy number 21, this is Rose speaking.” came the softly
spoken words “…may I help you?”.
Trying not to get tongue tied I replied ” Hi Rose, this is Dickie from the
Real Estate Office. If it wouldn’t be too inconvenient I’d like to drop by and
take a look at the store and the operation so I can discuss it with my client.”
Actually there was a lot more that I wanted to take a look at but that would
come soon enough.
“Hi Dickie!” There semed to be a hint of excitement in her voice. “You
couldn’t have picked a better time. The store doesn,t open for another hour
and a half today and it will give me a chance to give you the Cook’s Tour. When
can I expect you?”, she said.
“Give me about fifteen minutes.” I replied, knowing full well that I could
be there in half that time…and intended to be.
“OK. I’ll be waiting to let you in.”
We hung up and I went into the bathroom to check myself out. Quite
satisfied that what I saw in the mirror was as good as it was going to get I
walked out to my car and headed for her store. When I got there and approached
the door I saw her standing inside back by one of the machines. She looked even
more fuckable today than she did yesterday. I tried the door and realized it was
locked so I rapped on the glass with my ring. She heard and came to the door to
let me in. As she approached the door I could see a big smile on her face and
decided that this could be good.
“Come in.” she said as she held the door for me to walk past her.
…End of the part1. To be continued..
desire1
Sunday, August 17th, 2008Archive-author:
Archive-title: Desire
PT 1
As Mike slowly walked down the glistning wet city street
thoughts of his psychiatrist probed his mind. He had been going to the
same psychiatrist for almost a year now and his bimonthly hour
of sexual bliss was about to begin. No, he had never touched her
or had any contact with her of any kind, she was much to cold
for that, but his fantasies were fueled from these sessions.
You might say that Mike was obsessed. She was a cold, cold woman,
who had never shown any signs of emotions towards him, but in
that he did not blame her because sex with clients was strictly
taboo. He could accept that, so she lived only in his
fantasies which were fueled intensly 2 times a month.
He imagined in his head her distincted jawline which
never twiched, nor smiled, and her dark eyes which showed absolutely
no emotion whatsoever. Yes she was very cold, very unobtainable,
and in that she was so beautiful.
As he walked down the wet street, the dampness of the
pavement brought a familiar smell to his nose. He liked the rain.
The sounds of cars splashing down the pavement all greeted his sences
and created the dark mood of gloom that he was in. He seemed to always
be depressed and nothing ever seemed to matter. He stared at his
feet as he approached the large office building, and with a deep
breath pulled the large glass door open and went inside.
Ella looked at her watch and took off her glasses.
It was almost time for her appointment with Mike, and she would
need to prepare. Unknown to him was the fact that the whole
time she had been counseling him, she had found herself becoming
more and more atracted to him. On several occasions she had found
herself getting damp from the smooth sound of his voice and his
smooth looks. In her profession, sex with clients was strictly
forbidden, but as time went on she had found it harder and harder
to supress her emotions. She was finally at that breaking point
and she feared that she had lost control; something that she prided
herself on. As she slowly closed the blinds thoughts of the few times
she had reached out and touched him crossed through her mind. Every
touch she had ever placed had been always met with a think knot
of corded muscle. As she glanced one more time outside at the rain,
a wave of want passed over her. She found herself already getting
wet.
Mike pushed through the glass door that led into Ms.
Sanders office. He walked up to the receptionist and checked in.
He looked down through the glass tabletop that made up the
receptionist’s desk. As always, she was wearing a skimpy skirt
that rode up her legs when she sat. Soft white nylons hugged her
legs and supple white leather pumps adorned her outfit. Mike
wondered to himself about how much she got hit on, but then
decided that she must have liked it because of the suggestive
way she dressed. She looked up at him and gave him a warm smile.
“Ms. Sanders will be right with you.” She said through
pouty red lips, and gave him another big smile.
Mike said thanks and then sat down and fumbled with a
magazine. He was nervous as hell. He always seemed to be before
his sessions with Ms. Sanders. His heart thumped in his chest and
he waited in anticipation for his time with her.
Suddenly, as he heard the all to familiar clicking of her
heels on the tile, he stood up straight and put his magazine down.
She came around the corner and he immediatly fell in behind her
to follow her back to her office. His sexual bliss was starting
to roll into motion starting with the click of her heels on the
ground. There was just something about the way that sounded.
Mabey it was the fact that that sound reminded him of how good
she looked with heels and the short skirted buisness suits
she always wore. He looked at her soft brown hair and her
supple skin and yearned to touch and feel her. He wanted to
become drunk with her feel and touch her everywhere. He sighed
…End of the part1. To be continued..
derik
Saturday, August 16th, 2008Archive-author: Derek Blonde
Archive-title: Early One Morning
AUTHOR’S DISCLAIMER:
(Unfortunately, this is NOT what the life of a computer
professional is like, at least in Research Triangle Park.
Anyone who knows of a place where systems consultants can
do this type of thing, please let me know.)
They had been working on the system for twenty-one straight
hours now. It was finally up and running; their client, a
large banking law firm, wanted the in-house system plugged into
a banking information network and a huge legal database. The
conversion had taken over four hundred thousand dollars worth
of hardware and software, in addition to three weeks of work,
and in the end Ryan thought that it would have been simpler
just to order every single piece of shit in the IBM catalog
that would fit inside the cabinet and load it onboard.
And now the computer was getting ready to entangle itself
into an international 24-hour database. The Brain would never
shut off again; now, it was going through a self-test,
getting ready to read market data, scan the newspapers, and
watch the local trouble spots in locations around the
world where the firm had clients. Its huge main monitor
was split into sixteen screens, one screen for each
communication controller operating in the building. Ryan
was trying to give each of them in turn something
approaching his immediate and undivided attention.
He was having trouble concentrating, however. His
software engineer, Kelly, was a sweet young thing just
out of MIT…young, blonde, beautiful, and brilliant.
She showed a decided preference for working in sweats,
and since the machine room was cooled to 68 Fahrenheit,
sweats were comfortable. But while she and Ryan
were hooking up the cabling on a replacement unit, and
now again as they crowded in front of the monitor to
watch The Brain do its sitting-up exercises, they had
been working in close quarters. And Ryan had found himself
meditatively studying the curves of her beautiful, firm
ass underneath her crimson sweatpants. Wondering what it
would be like to nibble on her neck, near her hairline,
with her on all fours…
With an effort, Ryan snapped out of this pleasant fantasy.
The console beeped, signalling the end of the self-test.
“Is it ready to connect now?” asked Kelly.
Oh boy, he thought, is it ever. He was so hard that he
was positively throbbing, and he knew that he would
have to find some kind of relief soon. Just go off in
a corner and jerk off two or three times.
“Well, let’s give it a try,” he said, struggling to control
his voice. He punched the key sequence, and The Brain
started activating its connections. Lights danced on
the modem consoles. Satellite linkups moved into place.
“Jesus, I think it works!” breathed Kelly. “I think it’s
really running!”
“I’ve got my fingers crossed.”
An error code flashed on one of the low screens. “Oh, shit,”
muttered Kelly. “Hand me the green manual, would you?”
Ryan looked around, hoping against hope that he would
see the green-cover book somewhere within his reach. To his
dismay, he found it: it was on a utility shelf about four
feet over.
He stood with as much dignity as he could muster, but
his stiff seven inches were standing at attention inside
his grey flannels. He retrieved the green manual, and walked
gingerly back to Kelly’s desk, willing her not to look up
at him.
To no avail. She looked up at him; her eyes widened, and
she gave a little gasp, as she saw the evidence of Ryan’s
arousal (and the source of his embarassment). Then she
quickly looked around to see if anyone else might have
come into the machine room (they hadn’t), and gripped
Ryan’s cock firmly, through his pants.
“You’ve been watching me tonight,” she said matter-of-
factly.
What could he say? “Yes.”
“And thinking dirty thoughts about me.”
“Yes.”
She smiled, unzipped his fly, and cupped his hot, swollen
balls in her cool hand. “Are you lonely, Ryan?” she asked.
Ryan was now concentrating very hard to keep from spraying
hot come all over her MIT sweatshirt. “Yes,” he half-
exhaled, half-moaned.
She rubbed the tip of his throbbing organ gently over her face,
and suddenly gave a little shudder. “Oh, God,” she said.
“This is for me. My boyfriend’s been away for MONTHS!
I need a man. I need to be fucked. I need you, Ryan. Now.”
She wriggled out of her sweatpants, exposing a gleaming,
moist patch of blond pubic hair; she stood, and kissed Ryan
deeply while fumbling with his belt. Ryan picked her up, and
sat her magnificent ass down on the table next to the system
console. He entered her still standing, and she locked her
long legs behind his back to support him as he thrusted
into her warm and welcoming wetness.
Her cunt was firm and tight and muscular, and her scent was
intoxicating. At the apex of each thrust, Kelly gripped Ryan
with her vaginal muscles and pulled him in tighter with her
legs. “Your cock was made for me, baby. Give it all to me.
Give me everything you got.”
They moved together in the simplest and most primitive rhythms.
His breaths were coming short and sharp now, and he tried
to fuck Kelly as hard as she was thrusting back. She could
feel him swelling even bigger inside of her. “Coming,” he
gasped. “Oh, God, come with me.”
Her eyes became very, very wide as she felt him swelling.
Her lips parted, and she felt like she was drifting weightlessly–
that the only two things in the universe were her tight young
pussy and his engorged cock. And they were moving together
faster and faster, and it was getting bigger, and she knew
that soon the spasm would come.
Ryan exploded inside her, in a hot, blinding
flash, like a supernova. Her muscles jerked rhythmically,
uncontrollably, over and over again as her orgasm washed over
her in blissful waves.
When they had rested a moment, and recovered their wind, they
glanced up at The Brain. Its lights danced merrily; it was
storing up and analyzing all the financial data on Southeast Asia
since the dawn of recorded history, just because it wanted to
and there was nothing else for it to do before the London
stock exchange opened.
“We should test it before we allow it to hook in this morning,”
Ryan said gently.
“The machine,” Kelly replied firmly, “can take care of itself.
You can take care of me.”
He then in turn, gave her his immediate and undivided attention.
End
–
bikedude
Friday, August 15th, 2008Archive-author: Longshot
Archive-title: Bikedude
It was the summer of 1989 and I was working down at the beach in a
bicycle repair shop. On the other side of the shop was a small office with a
table that was used as a rental shop. Around 5pm, two great looking girls
came in a wanted to rent bikes for the week. I immediately offered to help
and motioned them towards the office. Tammy was 5′6″, looked to be about
125lbs, blond hair, blue eyes and a killer tan. Renee was 5′1″, about 105lbs,
red hair, green eyes and yes, a great tan also. I asked them what kind of
riding they were intending on, and they said since the traffic was so bad,
they just wanted something they could get to the mall and grocery with. I
fixed them up with some touring bikes that had racks to put their purchases
in. They signed the release tickets and I watched as the two firm bodies
rode away.
I figured that was the last I would see of the two beauties until it
was time to bring the bikes back. Fortunately, I was wrong. Just as we
were closing up at 9pm, the phone rang. It was Tammy. She and Renee had
been riding around and must have encountered some glass as they both had
flat tires on the bikes. I got the address of where they were staying,
loaded up the necessary gear and took off. When I got to the apartment, I
could see the bikes sitting on the rims. When I knocked on the door and
didn’t get an answer, I started to work on the flat tires, figuring the
girls were down on the beach. As I continued working, someone snuck up
behind me and put their hands over my eyes. I was then told to stand up
slowly and not to say a word. I was led forward and soon told to sit down.
As I sat down, the hands were removed and I saw that I was in a bedroom.
Tammy was laying beside me in her bathing suit and Renee was the culprit
who had captured me. The girls said they were turned on when they saw me
riding around and had come in to the bike shop only to see me. But Tammy
had figured that if they had a problem with the bikes that I would come out
to see them. They had let the air out of the tires and called hoping to get
me. I told them I was turned on when they first came in and that I jumped
the chance to go on their service call. Renee looked at Tammy and said
“Well, I got him over here, so you do what you want with him first.” and
walked out of the room.
Tammy leaned up and pushed me down onto the bed. I could feel my cock get-
ting harder and harder beneath my cycling shorts. She reached down and
pulled her bikini bottoms off and I saw the lightest blond tufts of hair
around the pink lips of her pussy that I have every laid eyes on. She took
off her top and revealed a perfect pair of 36d’s. Now my cock felt like it
was going to explode. I helped her with my shorts and she began flicking
my nipples with her fingernails. After a few moments of this, my little
nubs were as hard as my cock. As she kept up her actions, I began working
on her nips. She began to moan very softly and spread her legs a little.
She asked if I would tie her breasts up and fuck her. I told her that I
had not tried bondage but for her I would try. She reached under the bed
and pulled out some rope and shoestrings. I had her sit up and took a
long length of rope and tied her arms behind her back. I took a second
length of rope, tied one end to the rope holding her arms and then started
making figure eights around her chest, going each time between her breasts.
I asked her what the shoestrings were for and she said to tie them tightly
around her nipples, making sure to leave plenty of string to get a grip on
after her nipples began to swell. After doing this, I lowered her back onto
the bed and tied her ankles to the bed posts. Seeing her this helpless on the
bed was driving me wild, so I reached over and gently tugged at the strings
on her nipples. She began to moan and I could wait no longer. I pulled
my shorts down and positioned myself 69 style over her. She latched on to
my cock and began sucking and licking. I began licking her pussy and tugging
at her strings, which made her moan ever more. I didn’t want to cum yet, so
I moved down to her pussy and began to suck her clit, all the while pulling
strings.
With her pussy dripping wet, I stopped and she told me that there was a
double headed dildo in the drawer next to the bed. Getting into the grove,
I told her she had to be a real good girl before I would let her cum. Just
then, Renee walked back into the room and joined us on the bed. She said
Tammy had been bad all day long and needed to be punished. I was glad to
oblige. Renee straddled Tammy’s chest and untied the strings from her
nipples. She took her finger and ran it between the lips of Tammy’s pussy
and began rubbing her own lips and clit. As this went on, she would use
the palm of her other hand to gently graze the swollen nipples before her.
Tammy started to buck and grind under Renee, and she knew it would not take
much more for her to cum. Renee got off of her chest and picked up the dildo.
She gave us a slutty look and started to go down on the monster rubber cock
with her mouth. She turned it around and did the other side, slid it down
her chest between her breasts, and put one end into her pussy. As she pumped
it in and out of her hot box, she pushed the other end into her ass. As her
knees got wobbly, she dropped to the floor in front of me and started to suck
my dick. I reached down and twisted her nipples as she sucked me as she kept
a steady rythym in her pussy and ass with the dildo. Tammy could do nothing
but lie on the bed and watch. Renee pulled the dildo out with a pop and
pulled me to the floor and into her pussy. It didn’t take long until she came
and I was not far behind. As I started to cum, I pulled out of Renee and
quickly put my cock in Tammy’s mouth. She was wild with lust after watching
us screw right in front of her and sucked me off real fast. For this, I slid
dildo into her cunt and asshole. I twisted her nipples and she came shaking
and grinding the dildo into my other hand.
I quickly untied Tammy, and massaged her arms and neck, which led to my dick
starting to springing back to life. She took it in her hands and began to
jack me up and down. We laid down on the bed facing each other as I started
to rub her clit and Renee joined us directly behind Tammy. Tammy slid my now
hard cock into her sweet pussy and Renee slid the end of the dildo into
Tammy’s ass and into her pussy. The feeling of that rubber cock head rubbing
against my head through the thin skin between her pussy and her asshole was
fantastic. I knew I wouldn’t last long. I reached around and fingered Renee
in the ass and just as I did she came. Tammy came again, almost as hard as
before and her clutching pussy muscles were taking me to the edge. Tammy slid
a finger into my asshole and that was all I could take. I pumped her pussy
full as Renee kneaded my balls to get every drop of cum out. I pulled out of
Tammy and when I had slumped off the bed into a chair, Renee pulled the dildo
out of her pussy and reached into the drawer and pulled out another two headed
dildo. Tammy rolled over and got on her hands and knees as Renee slid on end
of one dildo into Tammy’s ass and the end of the other dildo into Tammy’s
pussy. Renee got on her hands and knees and put the ends into her holes and
started to move back and forth. I was getting hard again watching these two
go at it, but man did my balls hurt.
The girls were going at it as hard as they could, shoulders to the bed, one
hand on the clit and one hand going from nipple to nipple. I was now stroking
at a pretty fast pace and could feel my balls burning. As they came, I stood
up and shot two short squirts on their backsides and that was all I could get.
I ended up spending the night with them and visited them a couple more times
before they left, but that I’ll save for a later story.
–
Sperm Deposit
Thursday, August 14th, 2008I love sex in every way, shape, and form. But what I really
dig best is getting laid or sucked off when there’s a chance of
getting caught or being seen. That’s when my dick is at its
hardest and my load is at its sweetest.
I’m an assistance manager at a local bank and one of our
tellers feels the same way I do. I’ll call her Joan so her
husband doesn’t find out. Joannie is tall and very attractive
with long slim legs and firm pointy breasts.
Last Friday, Joan was servicing the customers at the
drive-in window when she had to go to the ladies’ room. I was the
only other person in the bank so I took her place. An older woman
had just pulled up when I felt a hand slide between my legs and
grab my cock. It stiffened immediately.
“I want to suck you so bad,” she moaned in my ear.
Joan slid my cock around in my pants while I counted out the
old lady’s money. I was getting wetter and hornier by the
minute, and the instant the car drove away, I pushed Joannie to
her knees in front of me. We both fumbled with my zipper, and she
groaned as my steaming hot dick fell out. The shaft was hard as a
rock, and the swollen head was moist with pre-cum.
“I love your cock,” Joan sighed as she wiped the tip all
over her face, leaving white sticky traces.
I watched as she pulled back the foreskin, exposing the
swollen purple head. Her pick tongue flicked in and out of her
hot mouth, sending sparks up and down my spine as she caressed
and teased the rigid flesh.
I jerked my hips forward, trying to get my cock in her warm
mouth, but she pulled away.
“Not yet,” she said. Her hands grasped my balls and began
pulling as her tongue jumped along the swollen shaft. Joannie
kept licking and kissing my dick until I thought I was going to
die.
Suddenly I heard a car horn. Parked in front of the teller
window was a sharp looking blonde, who was not over 18, in a
short skirt.
That was the moment that Joannie clamped her mouth over the
head of my big dick and started sucking REAL hard!!
“You OK?” asked the blonde, giving me a beautiful smile.
I couldn’t believe what was going on. I was getting my hot
meat eaten inches away from a girl who didn’t know what the hell
was going on.
“Yeah,” I stammered, trying to count the money right. Who
wouldn’t be OK?
Joan was sliding my cock in and out of her hungry mouth, and
it was drenched with saliva. It isn’t easy counting while some-
one is chewing on your dick, and it took me three times before I
got it right.
Joan would run her tongue around the wet tip and then engulf
the staff, ramming it down her throat until I though I would grab
her. I’ve had blow jobs from Joannie before, but today she was at
her best.
Joan’s breathing was getting heavier and louder as she
swallowed my prick, and I knew that she was going to get a load
real soon.
“So where’s my money?” asked the teenage blonde.
Just as I passed the cash out, the girl shifted her legs
giving me a great view of her pink pussy. She wasn’t wearing any
undergarments.
That did it. With a moan from me, my 9 1/2″ dick started to
shot load after load. Joan felt it, because she began pumping my
shaft harder and sucking on the head like a vacuum cleaner.
Looking down, I watched her mouth slide up and down the cum-
stained shaft as she swallowed my load. Every drop went down that
eager throat as she slurped and sucked every last drop.
The blonde was staring at me real funny , but my attention
was on Joan as she continued to lick until every tongue flick was
painful.
“Tell your friend I hope it was tasty,” the blonde said
before driving away.
“That was the biggest load you’ve ever shot,” Joan said,
giving the tip one last lick before tucking it back into my
pants.
We had to go back to our regular jobs after that, but when
work was finished, I spread Joannie out on the back seat of my
car and ate her pussy until she begged me to shop.
So, the next time you go to a bank drive-in window, you
might know why the teller is smiling.
—
Why did my blind date want me to meet him at Camelot 18th and M He
Wednesday, August 13th, 2008said lunch, but that’s a GO-GO place. They serve food, too? He said
not to be late, or I’d miss the show. Oh, well. Here it is. Hmmmmmm.
Nice neighborhood. Nice place.
The sign says auditions! Oh, so that’s it. Auditions for dancers. Was
I supposed to try out? No way, Jose! My shape isn’t going to get me on
stage! I see somebody waiting outside … I approach him … correctly
guessing this is my date.
We go inside, and he whispers something to the Hostess. She looks me
over and nods. Then we follow her to a table. She takes our order for
burgers and cokes. When she comes back, she gives me a 3×5 card with
the number 6 written on it. “Number 4″ a voice announces over the
microphone.
A young girl gets up from the table next to me, and gets on stage. She
is dressed in street clothes. She is nervous. The music starts. She
is getting undressed! Oooooo. Auditions. But she is not very good. I
can do better than that. She gets down to bra and panties, and she is
shaking. Real nervous. She takes her bra off, but can’t drop her arms
to show her tits. The music stops and she grabs her clothes. My date
is the only one that applauds her. Nice of him.
“Number 5.” That’s quick! And I’m number 6? My heart starts to pound.
This time I watch the next girl real close. She is obviously a pro from
another bar. Her moves are quick and sure. My date takes my hand and
whispers. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. But I want to see
you naked.” I look at him, and he has the most eager smile. How could
I turn him down? The girl finishes her act to lots of applause. She
sure did swing her pussy and ass around a lot. Is that what they want?
“Number 6.” I get on stage and look around. Small audience. As I
unbutton my blouse, I watch him. He is nodding and smiling to give me
support. Next my skirt. Oh shit. Pantyhose. Why didn’t he tell me?
I fake it by slithering around on my back. To save time, I pull my
panties off at the same time. My bare pussy is pointing right at him.
When my bra is off, I toss it to him. I know the song, and there is
lots of time left.
The cheers are pretty loud for such a small crowd. I love it. My date
has his face within reach. I kiss him, then swing around and, on hands
and knees, shove my ass in his face. He grabs my ass cheeks to hold me.
He sticks his tongue inside my pussy. Ooooooo. I flip over and bring
my knees way back. He leans over and starts licking my clit. And he
sticks a finger deep inside my pussy. The cheering is tremendous.
“Lock the Doors.” I hear someone say.
He stands up and opens his pants. His cock looks beautiful. But I
don’t get to see it for long. He climbs up with me and over me on his
hands and knees. His legs push mine apart. His lips start sucking on
my tits. Then, he kisses me thoroughly on the mouth. I feel his cock
push deep inside me. The crowd is wild. “Go! Go! GO! GO! GO!” They
are shouting, as our hips push and buck and fuck. The music is very
loud in my ears, and I start my orgasm just as the music hits its peak.
I feel his hot cum spurt inside me at the same time. The music stops.
The cheering and foot stomping is deafening.
Somebody — the manager? — comes over and squeezes my tits. And he
says, “You’re hired. How much do you want for three acts like that per
night?”
–
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Ann was stunned as she hung up the phone She’d known John had been going
Saturday, August 9th, 2008 to the Centre’s clinic about his headaches and stomach problems, but didn’t
know he’d been seeing a lady shrink.
He’d mentioned he’d seen the psychologist who’d given him some relaxation
and meditation exercises to follow, and they had seemed to help. But he’d
never mentioned seeing another doctor, and a young woman at that, from her
voice.
Now, the doctor wanted to see her next week at 4:30 during John’s “session”
whatever that was all about, and talk with her about helping John with his
problems.
Dr. Whetmore had said not to say anything to John about their conversation
or next week’s visit, which had seemed strange, but then she didn’t want
John upset. She had assured Ann there was nothing to worry about, but she
felt Ann could really help John with his problems and help him on the road
to recovery. She’d said she’d seen this in lots of young executives who
were under terrible strain to produce as they moved up in their careers.
John was the Director of Public Relations for the Centre and had just taken
over this position from his predecessor about a year ago. It was just about
6 months ago that John had started getting these headaches and stomach
aches that had sent him to the Centre’s clinic.
About that time he’d come home and told Ann that he thought there was some
“funny business” going on with the way the clinic was run, but that he
needed more evidence before he told her more.
He was always such a straight arrow, and with the amount of government work
the Centre did, he felt it his duty to find out if there was something
going on that wasn’t right. He’d occasionally tell her things about some of
the research the clinic did, but since much of it was ‘hush hush’ he
couldn’t tell much except it involved some high tech “brainwashing” and
“mind control” stuff.
Much of the work the Centre for the Advancement of Psychology, or CAP as it
was called by the employees, did was just normal psychology research with
rats, and such or studying which colors had what affect on people, and
relaxation methods and techniques for stressed out executives or high
ranking government people.
It was a fast paced environment and there was a lot of stress, so CAP ran
its own private health clinic with a full range of services from general
medical to addiction rehab, to psychology and psychiatry.
John had gone to the clinic about 3 months ago and lately it seemed to have
helped. His stomach aches were far less freguent and his headaches seemed
to go away when he closed his eyes and just let himself relax. He seemed to
hum some silly mantra or something, kind of like a familiar lullabye, but
it seemed to help and he was in a much better mood, except when Ann brought
up the subject of starting a family.
With John at age 33 and she at age 30, she felt it was time, and she badly
wanted a baby before it was too late. She was surprised at how few of the
women she knew whose husbands worked at the clinic had children, but they
seemed to poo-poo it by saying “We have our pets, and careers, and besides
these silly men are just like children anyway.”
Many of the wives worked right at the Centre, and many of them worked in
the special daycare where workers and local townspeople received excellent
daycare and nursery care for their pre-schoolers, but Ann so far hadn’t
been interested in a “career”, especially with other people’s children and
babies.
the Visit and the Secret Revealed
The week had gone uneventfully, and John seemed much better. He’d been
sleeping so soundly, he’d wet his bed twice that week, but Ann didn’t have
the heart to scold him or make fun of him. He seemed embarrassed enough
when he woke up and had to change his bed and PJs.
He’d been listening to some tape or something the doctor had given him, but
all Ann could hear was music and nature sounds. It seemed very relaxing and
soothing, but Ann didn’t have time for that nonsense.
Finally, Friday afternoon at 4:25 Ann sat waiting for Dr. Whetmore, when
Dr. Rotman came out and invited her into his office to “talk” before they
went in to see John and his associate.
While they talked, Dr. Rotman explained that much of John’s problems were
due to the stress of his job, and this silly “investigation” he’d started,
and finally decided to drop. His pressure and the strain were making him a
little paranoid, seeing “bogey men everywhere” as Dr. Rotman explained it.
While the doctor was talking he kept playing with a small shiny ball on a
thin metal chain, kind of like a pendulum, and Ann was fascinated by it as
it swung back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, with a gentle,
steady rythm, and the soft click, click as it hit the other ball. She found
it hard to concentrate on what the doctor said at first, but then it seemed
so much easier, as she relaxed and just listened to him while she watched
the ball.
Finally, the doctor said “Let’s go see Dr. Whetmore and John, Ann so we can
find how to help John with is problems.”
Ann found herself rising and taking the doctor’s arm as they walked slowly
to the room at the end of the hall, and the doctor kept talking slowly and
softly to her reassuring her everything would be alright, just as long as
she accepted John’s problem and helped him to get over the stresses he was
feeling.
As they entered the room, Ann saw an attractive young woman sitting in a
chair beside a couch talking to a man who was lying on the couch with
headphones on and with a small tube going into his arm. He was covered with
a blanket up to his chest, and Ann could see his feet were bare and he was
fast asleep.
As Dr. Rotman introduced the woman, Ann learned she was Dr. Janet Whetmore,
a psychiatrist who dealt with special problems like John’s. Dr. Whetmore
talked softly to Ann for a while, and Ann began to really trust Dr.
Whetmore and to like her as though she were a long time friend and
confidante.
The two doctors exchanged knowing smiles, then Dr. Whetmore offered Ann a
glass of juice which she gratefully drank. After a few seconds she felt
very “alive” and “able to listen” to Dr. Whetmore and hung on her every
word.
Dr. Whetmore explained she was a psychiatrist who dealt with special
problems, called paraphilia. She explained these were fetishes or sexual
interests in objects or things, like feet, or clothing or a special time in
life. She explained many men wanted to dress up in women’s clothing, and
this was called transvestitism and the “love of womens’ clothing”. She
explained that a lot of men in important positions, like John’s, found the
stresses of everyday life caused them to want to escape into an easier
life, where they had no responsibilities, and a time when they were cared
for as babies.
These men wanted to wear baby clothing, and be dressed as babies,
especially in diapers and baby panties, and to wet their diapers like
little babies.
Unfortunately, their desires and their positions created further stresses
and conflicts and this sometimes made them sick, especially if there was
stress at home, or they were afraid their wife wouldn’t accept their
fetish. Then they could get really sick and have a breakdown.
Ann felt very sad, and sorry for these type of men. How could their wives
be so mean as to deny them this outlet for their stresses. The doctor had
…End of the part1. To be continued..
I guess I realized my fetish started when I was in high school One
Friday, August 8th, 2008 weekend, a whole group of my friends went up to the lake to party and
get some sun and waterskiing in. There was this really CUTE girl who I
was seeing. Her family was rich and let her do basically whatever she
wanted. So she asked to take her brother’s speedboat out and of course
they consented. I think that she had just learned how to drive but had
been navigating her father’s speedboat as well as some of our friends’
skiboats for a while. I don’t think she had ever taken her brother’s
boat out before. But what the hell, he was away at college and wouldn’t
care anyways. Right? Well, I remember a whole bunch of problems
getting the boat up to the lake, but once it was there, the fun started.
Valerie had long blond hair (being the California beach girl) and a
really knockout tan slim body, with blue eyes and pouty lips. She was
always wearing as little clothing as possible (to get more sun she
said). The day after we got there, Val was wearing a red bikini and she
had these cute dainty feet with red nailpolish. I remember looking at
her long tan legs and gazing downwards to her feet. She was a waterskiier
and had smooth, muscular, but not too muscular legs that saw their share
of sunlight. Her cute brown feet were in white flip-flops, the kind
that has the really thin stringy thongs which showed off her cute feet.
I got an instant hard-on.
She pulled me to my feet where the group was sitting in the sand. We
hadn’t begun to ski yet so she told the group she was going to warm up
the boat and get used to driving it by taking it around the lake once.
She of course called me togo with her or this would be the end of the story.
Her brother’s boat was a fast jet boat that he sometimes used for
racing. It had a benchseat in it big enough for only two. As she climbed
into the driver’s seat, she put her leg forward and as I was admiring her
beautiful, nicely-tanned strong legs, I saw a big pedal shaped like
a big bare footprint on the floorboard right in front of her. It had
a raised ridge along the side of it and the entire gleaming footboard
surface had raised bumps kind of like corrugated steel. The shiny metal
pedal was at least 14″ high and stood straight up. I had never seen
a pedal on a boat before and asked her what it was for. She said it
was for the gas and that boat didn’t originally come with it. But
her brother liked the feeling of power at the touch of his foot so
he re-wired the boat with it. The foot throttle was custom made to his
liking and shaped to exactly match his bare foot: toes, raised arch and all.
He said that it allowed him to get off the starting line faster because
he could stomp on it and still steer with both hands. The raised edge and
arch as well as the perfectly-fitting toes and raised nubs helped keep his
foot in place as he dashed through the choppy waters. Although she said
that she had seen him driving with aquasocks before. She had never
driven his boat before.
She said that Mike (her brother) said it was just like driving a car
and that to start it for the first time, you needed to give the jets
a lot of gas. As she was explaining this to me, she put her cute thonged
foot on the upright accelerator. It looked tiny against the massive pedal;
her toes didn’t even reach “his toes” of the foot throttle, only just above
the arch of “his foot”. As Val tried to put her heel into the metal heel
cup, her foot slid out of her thong. “Dammit!” she yelled and tried to
kick the thong out of the pedal. Mike’s “foot” seemed to like her shoe and
refused to give it up no matter which way she tried to move it. Finally,
I bent over and lifted her size 6-7 thong out of the pedal. The accelerator
pedal must’ve pivoted about an axis where it touched the floor because
she tried to give the pedal a mighty pump with her foot, but since her
foot was small and her heel was in the cup, the pedal barely moved. She,
however, flinched in pain as stomping on a non-moving steel pad must’ve
hurt the knee and leg. She then sat way up in her seat and put her toes
on Mike’s “toes”. She extended her leg as far as it would go and began
pumping the pedal with her toes. She could press it down an inch backwards.
She turned the key and cranked the engine while continuing her feeble
ministrations. The engine cranked but never turned over. It
had been a cool night and I guess the engine was cold.
I slid next to her and told her to trade places with me. She did and I
was now sitting in the driver’s seat. I checked all the gauges and
everything was fine. Even the fuel was topped off. I kicked off my
right sandal and placed my bare foot on the big pedal. I had learned long
ago that it was impossible to drive with flip-flops on. The part of the
sandal extending past the heel was always longer than the part from the
front strap to the toe. Thus if you slide your foot back to be equal with
the bottom of the sandal, your toes always fall out of the straps. This
was illustrated by Val nicely a few seconds before. My foot almost
fit the aluminum casting. It was cold and corrugated with a lip running
around it (obviously to keep your foot mounted on the gas). I pushed on
the massive pedal with my toes and to my surprise it went back quite far.
I turned the key again and held it in start. I began pumping the pedal
in long strokes, pushing and extending my toes until it was almost
horizontal and then letting it slowly come back. The engine sputtered
and she grabbed my hard cock and squeezed tightly in anticipation.
It coughed and started to die. She quickly put her left foot, still in
her sandal, on top of my right and tried to pump the engine back to life.
Using the dashboard and my cock to balance her, she was making my cock
harder while she stepped on the insole of my bare right foot. The engine
caught on and was starting to sound like it would make it but it died
again suddenly.
I then got a really good idea. I told Val that maybe since the boat
seemed to do better when we both worked at it, that we should do it
together. She agreed but saw my wicked smile. I eased out of my swimsuit
and slipped my right foot out of my sandal again. Then I released her
bikini bottom. I told her that she had to sit on my lap for us to try
to get this boat started. So she sat down, easing her way onto my shaft,
moaning as she went. Now that we were one, I put my right bare foot
onto the large pedal which had grown warm by the heat from our feet.
Val then lifted her again-thonged right foot to the pedal. Now that she
was in my lap, she could reach it easily. She stuck her heel over my toes
and let her flip-flop sandal drape over the back of the gas pedal. Then
she moved her foot down until her foot slipped out of her shoe again.
The white thong landed sloppily behind the accelerator. Her dainty foot,
now on top of mine, tried to push on the gas but her thong had fallen at
just the right angle to wedge against the back of the pedal and the floor.
So I kicked off my left sandal and fished behind the large, wide pedal
for her shoe. I was straining and moving my hips to reach behind the
throttle and that was bringing her close to coming. I finally on a lunge
got my toe looped through the thin straps of her thong and pulled it free.
She reached forward and turned the key. She began pumping with her foot
furiously, crushing my tender foot against the pedal again and again,
rocking on my cock all the time. Her toes began to mesh with mine
from the force of her pounding foot, spreading my toes wide while her
painted toes interwove with mine. I looked and saw the pattern of red
nails alternating with my unpainted toes, peeking through from under
her foot. The nubs on the pedal were massaging the bare soles of my foot,
sending chills up and down my spine. My foot crashed the pedal again
and again as she extended her cute foot and pressed on my toes. I
watched this pendulating action, feeling the pressure of her sole on my
instep, and the raised nubs on the bottom of my foot. My left leg
involuntarily extended itself in the sensation, bringing me closer and
closer to orgasm. For what must have been thirty seconds, her foot
pounded the gas to full throttle. She came and her right leg
straightened and pinned my foot down on the pedal, holding the throttle
wide open. Her dainty foot, though little and beautiful, packed a
wallop of pressure! I couldn’t move. But my foot between hers and
the gleaming silver pedal couldn’t feel anything anyway as I began
exploding inside her. But that did it. The rush of gas from the fully
horizontal gas pedal revved the engine and she let go of the key. The
engine started.
>From then on, everytime I see a bare foot operating a pedal or engaging in
other activity, I remember Val and our boat ride. (There’s more to the
story too!) And I get this massive hard on that wants release desperately.
As Dave Munroe said, a girl in a convertible driving on PCH with the top
down barefoot makes me go wild! The beach during the summer is the best
time to see these sights! Cute girls in string bikinis with convertibles
driving barefooted! But isn’t there a law against driving barefooted (at
least in California, not that anyone can see you do it)?
If anyone has stories about pedals, tips or stories on seeing barefoot
drivers, or has an answer to the driving barefooted question, please post
to this group!!!
Pedal to the Metal! (Barefooted of course)
–
Archive-name: Fetish/barpedal.txt
Archive-author:
Archive-title: Barefoot Pedal Pushers
