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

and walked into her office behind her.

As Ms. Sanders walked around behind him to close the door,

he noticed that the room seemed strange and alien to him. He

thought that it was probably just the gloom outside, but he

still couldn’t help to notice just how dark it seemed in the room.

Even stranger then that, he heard the click of a locking door

behind him and whirled around to see Ms. Sanders walking away from

it. He immediatly made eye contact with her and dropped his

gaze as he was immediatly met with her cold penetant stare. He felt

ashamed for his childish thinking thast because she had locked the

door it had meant anything. He mentally kicked himself for thinking

in that way and walked over to the long black leather couch and

sat down quite heavily. He then manuvered into a laying position

and crossed his hand on his chest. He looked over to the side of

him and saw Ms. Sanders gathering some papers from her desk.

He couldn’t help but to admire her. He looked at her sleek and long

legs wrapped so comfortably in sheer black nylons. She was actually

not very tall, but with help from her shiny black heels she stood

at an impressive hight. He gazed at her legs and the blackness

that they dissapeared into working under her black skirt. That too

hugged her body and showed off every curve that she possesed, which

was enough to make the mind reel. He rested his head back onto

the couch and waited for their session to begin.

He heard her as she walked back over to him, and slid over

a chair for her to sit on. He turned his head just in time to watch

her sit down right next to him facing him. Her beautiful legs were

so close to his face that he could see a small birthmark just on

the other side of the shadow which dissapeared further up her

legs. He heard the sound of sheer nylons rubbing together as she

started moving her leg up to cross it. As she crossed her legs, in

…End of the part2. To be continued..

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.

—

Archive-title: Audition

Why did my blind date want me to meet him at Camelot? 18th and M? He

said 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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This could go in true stories to: A 85 year old who had never been to a doctor
before, as he proudly announced, came to the office for a check-up. He thought
it was about time. I, the doc, said, “What did you do to life so long and
stay so healthy?” He said, “Well, whatever it was, it wasn’t listening to the
likes of you!!”

Another one: During my residency, we offered a free pap smear clinic. Well, a
nurse brought in her elderly mother to have a pap smear because she had never
had one, or an internal exam for that matter. She had her kids at home
without benefit of medical attention. She was maybe 80. (The daughter was 60
or so.) Well, the daughter held her hand and talked her through the ordeal of
her first pelvic exam just as a mother might with a teenage girl. After it
was over, I said something to lighten things up like, “Now that wasn’t so bad
was it?” The old lady said, “No, it wasn’t, but I have one question to ask
you.” I said, “Shoot.” She said, “Does your mother know what you do for a
living?”

–

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a roommate or two.

“Tell me about your roommate? What is she like?” asked Lydia.

“She is this cute little redhead. I just loved redheads!” Charlotte exclaimed and

Lydia blushed as she played with a red curly lock of hair.

“Redheads, eh?” Lydia laughed.

“You have beautiful red hair,” Charlotte said getting bolder.

“Thank you. I often think of coloring it though. It gets a lot of attention.”

“NO! Don’t ever do that.”

“I won’t…it’s just a thought I have every once in awhile.”

“Do you brush it often? Your hair is so shiny and perfect!” exclaimed Charlotte.

“You sound like a shampoo commercial!” laughed Lydia.

“Haha, I am sorry. Would you let me comb it for you?” asked Charlotte, as her

eyes gleamed with sexual desire.

“Sure. There is a comb in my bedroom. Come on, I’ll show you.”

“You’re apartment is so gorgeous. Here sit on the bed and I’ll comb your hair. I

was going to be a hairdresser you know, but I decided on getting a degree here. I

had a scholarship, so its not like I could turn it down,” blurted Charlotte, as

she gently brushed Lydia’s hair.

Lydia felt a hand massaging her back as Charlotte ceased brushing her hair. Lydia

didn’t resist because it felt good to be touched. Charlotte’s hands kneaded her

neck in tiny circles and she said, “Boy, you’re really tense!”

“That feels really good. Don’t stop,” said Lydia, knowing full well it wouldn’t

end with just a massage. She didn’t really care. The girl’s hands were like heat

seeking missiles, finding the tense spots immediately.

“Lie on your stomach,” breathed Charlotte.

Lydia lay on her stomach as Charlotte unzipped Lydia’s dress releasing the

tension of the tight dress and also allowing herself to explore more of Lydia’s

soft flesh.

“There that’s better isn’t it?” asked Charlotte.

“Mmm, yes.”

…End of the part13. To be continued..

some. Dr. Maxwell Jones, otherwise known as Mac to his friends and colleagues,

sat enjoying his coffee in relative silence. It was his first day as a Professor

at the Institute for Science and Technology and already he was bored to tears. He

stared idly into the newspaper, propping his feet on the coffee table, while

lounging his tall frame on the hard couch. As the lounge area started to get more

and more crowded, he decided to head down to his office before his first lecture.

After a moment’s hesitation, he dismissed the thought of introducing himself to

the newcomers, instead he left with a casual, “Good Day” and a wink at the

ladies.

Peering over her mug Dianne asked, “You know him, Janine. What’s the scoop?”

“Who? Dr. Jones? Yes, we’ve met before,” answered Janine. In fact, they had more

than just met. The two of them had quickly become very intimate at Berkeley

several years ago. It took her a couple of months to recover from their caustic

break up, but she still had the urge to kiss him whenever she saw his ruggedly

handsome features. He was the essence of danger, the definition of male

chauvinism personified; yet, she had never stopped loving him.

“He does not look like a scientist, much less the most highly qualified member of

the scientific community,” blurted out Dr. Ronald Peterson. Of course, anyone who

didn’t wear tweed, a pocket protector, and spend enormous amounts of time

bragging about their success meant they probably were not, in Ron’s book at

least, a “Scientific Mind.” It especially meant they didn’t deserve the praise of

all academia like Dr. Jones had won the year before with his brilliantly

conceived breakthrough thesis on the relatively new frontier of Nanotechnology.

“Actually, his work has brought new light to the field of Science,” said Janine.

“From what I hear, he is arrogant, self assured, acts like a teenager, and has no

respect for authority,” spat Ron in disgust. Tiny droplets of spittle flew from

Ron’s mouth as he lectured on about the necessity for authority and correct

behavior being the most important characteristics >>for any Instructor to have

because without them chaos would ensue. “You see, we are considered role models!”

he said, as his hands flew up in agitation.

“I like this Dr. Jones already,” whispered Dianne, diverting her thoughts back

and forth from Dr. Jones to her coffee mug. “I am certain he was watching me

before he left,” she thought as she started to fidget with the top button of her

blouse. She had felt that particular “something” emanating from his open-eyed

stare. Perhaps, it was her imagination, but she still felt his animal magnetism

drawing her attention away from the group discussion.

“Further more, if it were not for his supposed high intelligence and his somewhat

ground breaking work, he would only be an associate professor at a small college

in the middle of nowhere,” droned Ron, as he finally sputtered out of steam.

“Tell us more about him, Janine. This is getting interesting.”

…End of the part1. To be continued..

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went in however two of them followed her and she knew something was wrong. The

minister was curt and to the point , he dropped a folder in front of her and

asked her to explain, she started to shake her head and repeated softly “no, no

this is not right, no, no”. At which point the minister waved to the guards and

told Karen she was under arrest. She then panicked and bolted past one of them

but the other grabbed her long blond hair with such force that she fell backwards

and pounded her back into the floor. The guard dropped to one knee landing it in

her chest with great force, knocking the wind from her. They then turned her

over cuffed her hands then her ankles, lifted her up by the arms and took her

away screaming that she did not do anything wrong, begging for a chance to

investigate the “errors”.

Bariwa is not well known for its civil rights record, to the extent that if it

did not have great mineral wealth the US government might not look the other way.

Karen knew she was in deep shit, once in her cell, not only figuratively but

also literally. The smell was obnoxious, the orders of urine and defication were

thick. It was all she could do to prevent from gaging and vomiting. In two days

the trial began and she was required to defend herself, no right to an attourny

here, the evidence was presented Karen tried her best to explain the

discrepancies but she knew it was hopeless. She begged the court for mercy and

awaited the verdict. There were three items to be decided, resisting arrest…90

days; embesselment 2 years; she had believed that it would be much worse and 2

years was long but not forever, she was young and could recover, at 29 when

released she almost felt relief. Then the final count, facing the judge in the

tattered grey prison dress….. 25 years of hard labor for crimes against the

people of Bariwa, her heart sank, she went dizzy and dropped to her knees begging

for mercy again. The judge simply said to remove the prisoner, and slammed down

the gavel.

Karen was then drug from the room and loaded onto the transport truck alone, she

was in a state of shock and knew that her final destination would not be

pleasent. Shackled and cuffed she was unloaded from the truck after what seemed

like 5 or 6 hours. There she was inside the gates of the high security prison

called Jubasa, literal translation “the jungle”. The prison was built in the

middle of a jungle, there were 400 acres of clear area surrounded by lush dense

rain forest. Here they waist no time in getting prisoners processed, she was

taken to what the guards called orientation immediately.

Karen was told to stand at attention, not to speak or move keeping her eyes

straight ahead. She heard a door close and heavy steps coming toward her, closer

and closer. It was the head of the prison who always greeted each prisoner for

orientation. A tall female brunette smartly dressed in her uniform, which hid

most of her feminine features, spoke to Karen in a soft pleasant voice.

Warden: “Hello Karen” Karen: “Hel..” SSMMAACCKK!!!!!!!!! across her

face causing her to nearly pass out. Warden: “SHUT THE FUCK UP! I will tell you

to speak. I will tell you when to eat when to sleep or when to breath if I am so

inclined. You may nod your head yes or no if you understand. ARE WE CLEAR?”

Karen: Head nodding yes, tears forming in her eyes and breathing deeply her

chest heaving

Warden: “Let me tell you a little about how we work here. By law you have

become the property of the state, you are no longer considered a person, simply

another asset of the county and as such you have no rights to anything, not even

air if I so choose. If I were you I would make me, the guards and any guests as

happy as possible. Because here we do not send memos, WE KICK ASS AND FORGET THE

NAMES! ARE YOU STILL WITH ME, KAREN?”

Karen: again nodding yes, hoping this was a bad dream.

Warden: “You own nothing, you are nothing except labor or entertainment which

ever we chose at the moment.” (Speaking to the guard) “Strip the cunt and take

off the cuffs, please.”

Guard: “yes madam”

Karen started to rub her wrists.. SSMMAACCKK!!!!!!!!!! again across the face

Warden: “You are not paying attention. Stand at attention. That is eyes

forward head back stomach in feet together and…listen closely HANDS AT YOUR

SIDE! Got it?

Karen nods yes

Warden: “I think we need to impress upon you the clairity of all our orders

they are simple and not ambigious. Follow them cunt. Do you see the table at the

front of the room? The one with the tall pole on one side?” (KJ nods yes) “I want

you to move your little scrony ass as fast as you can to get that table and roll

it back here and resume your position. Do you understand?” (KJ nods yes)

“OK…MOVE!”

Karen runs as fast as she can and grabs the table pulling it back as quickly as

possible and placing it in front of her. Then resumes her stance at attention.

Warden: “Not bad for a fucking cunt.” Slips the cover off of the table to

reveal a collection of paddles, canes, clamps, suringes, nozzles, bucket of ice

and other items Karen has no idea as to their use.

Karen with heart pounding both from the running and fear is starting to sweat and

breathing still more heavily

Anthropologists do it with culture.
Archeologists do it with mummies.
Architects do it late.
Bankers do it with interest, but pay for early withdrawl.
Bayseians probably do it.
Boy Scouts do it in the woods.
C++ programmers do it with class.
C++ programmers do it with private members and public objects.
Carpenters do it tongue in groove.
Chemists do it in test tubes.
Chemists do it in the fume hood.
Chess players mate better.
City Planners do it with their eyes shut.
Computer Operators do it upon mount requests.
Cops do it with cuffs.
Deprogrammers do it with sects.
Divers do it deeper!
Electricians do it until it Hertz!
Engineers do it with precision.
Entomologists do it with insects.
Evangelists do it with Him watching.
Fed-Ex agents will absolutely, positively do it overnight.
Firemen do it wearing rubber.
Firemen do it with a big hose.
Firemen find `em hot, and leave `em wet!
Gyneacologists mostly sniff, watch and finger.
Hypertrichologists do it with intensity.
Lawyers do it in their briefs.
Lawyers do it with extensions in their briefs
Let a gardener trim your bush today!
Lisp programmers have to stop and collect garbage.
Mathematicians do it in theory.
Metallurgists are screw’n'edge.
Moonies do it within sects.
Multitaskers do it Everywhere: Concurrently!
Nuns do it out of habit.
Philosophers think about doing it.
Photographers do it in the dark.
Physicists do it at two places in the universe at one time.
Physicists do it like Einstein.
Physicists do it with charm.
Physicists do it with large expensive machinery.
Physicists do it with the help of an absolute Bohr (ouch!).
Plasterers to it hard.
Politicians do it with everyone.
Pool cleaners do it wet.
Popes do it in the woods.
Programmers do it all night.
Quantum mechanics do it in leaps.
RISC assembly programmers do it 1073741824 times a second.
Scuba divers do it deeper.
Shakespearean scholars do it… or don’t do it, that is the question….
Skydivers go down faster.
Smalltalk programmers have more methods.
Sociologists do it with class.
Statisticians do it with 95% confidence.
Statisticians probably do it.
Systems programmers keep it up longer.
Typographers do it with tight kerning.
Usenet freaks do it with hard drives!
Vicars do it with amazing grace.
Waitresses serve it hot.

—

motor up again. He then went down and washed my sex, getting the hair first and

then making sure there were no stray drops of the cooking oil inside. I came

leaning back against the wall. When I had my breath back, he handed me the wash

cloth and told me that it was now my turn. I’m sure I grinned as I repeated the

procedure on him. The water was beginning to run cold by the time we were both

done. He dried me off and put my collar back on. (When had he taken it off?) He

lead me to the bed. I would normally have found something pretty to wear, but J

wouldn’t allow it. We both slept nude, or he did, I was after all wearing my

collar. It was a very odd night. Very sensual. He made love to me then, right

after we got into the bed, but he didn’t come (though I did). Then he explained

to me that my job was to service him whenever he had the urge all night. He’s a

very light sleeper. I don’t know how many times he woke up and took me or had me

go down on him, or flipped me on my back and licked me until I was screaming my

orgasm. I have no idea how many times he made me come. Sometime in the middle

of the night he came, his member buried in my bottom. Each time he took me

there, he would have me go and get a warm wash cloth and clean him off. Then

he’d have me go down on him until he was really hard and take me vaginally. In

the morning he came again, in my pussy this time. Each time he brought me to

orgasm. I was finding it easier and easier to come each time. It was as if

lifting all responsibility from me made me better in bed, or at least released

all my inhibitions and let me come more and more often. By morning I was actually

sated, tired but sated. I wondered about the day he’d have in srore for me.

I’ve gotten bored. I feel like I’m no longer talking about me and my experience

as much as I’m just offering you some titilation. It’s really difficult to

identify the specific occurrences on Saturday. So much happened. A lot of it was

J actually using me however and whenever he wished. He explained to me what a

pearl necklace was after he’d given me one. I’d never expected him to use the

tube of K-Y he took out between my breasts. When he spurted over my neck and

chin, he told me about that. I was naked nearly all day. His hands were all over

me most of the day. No pinch marks or anything like that, just a healthy

appreciation of my skin and that his time was limited. I came so many times that

my sides ached, sorta the way that they feel if you laugh too hard and too long.

Don’t get me wrong, it was a nice ache, but clearly we pushed our physical

limitations quite a bit. He pushed my emotional buttons very strongly too.

Normally I like to be the center of attention by being boisterous. He made me

the center of attention by making me quiet. He played a lot of head games with

me and made me love it. I served him breakfast in bed, of course. When he was

finished eating he had me go down on him while he finished his coffee of all

things. When I had him hard, he put his cup down and took me again, from behind

this time. He didn’t come then, but he made me, twice. J played this bizarre

game with me where he’d ask me questions that were extremely personal, like the

precise manner in which I lost my virginity, with graphic details. If I didn’t

tell him or if I didn’t seem to be telling the truth right away, he’d begin to

fondle me. He’d keep doing it until I told him what he’d asked. The bastard

kept me coming for what seemed like ten minutes, it couldn’t have been that long,

but he had this knack of being able to keep me right on the peak for the longest

times. I told him all kinds of things, the first time I had anal sex, all of the

occasions … well, you get the idea. We played that for much of the morning. He

did take me out, but that’s too complicated to go into now, perhaps later at

another session. The last thing he did Saturday night was probably the most

physically intense. He tied me to the 4 corners of my bed. Then he blindfolded

me. I had images of being tit-fucked again or of taking him in my mouth while he

held me down, of all kinds of things. He gave me a massage. At least it began as

a massage. Then it kind of evolved into something else. He stopped kneading my

muscles as much as he titilated my skin. He spend several minutes running his

hands up my thighs and down my stomach until I was ready to beg him to touch my

pussy, screw me, touch me, anything. Then he disappeared for a couple of

minutes. The next thing I felt, remember I was blindfolded, was him putting a

warm wash cloth over my sex. I knew what he was doing when he began to lather it

up. He told me that I needed to be very still and then began to shave my pubic

hair away. Now my husband and I engage in oral and anal sex, though normally

inside, so it wasn’t as if any of the specific acts were new to me. Shaving

myself isn’t something I’ve had to do or wanted to do for that matter. Somehow,

it felt forbidden and deliciously sexy to have him do it this way. He certainly

took his time over it, and while I suspect he wasn’t ever using the razor on me

while he did it, he did rub my clit a lot while reminding me that I needed to

stay still while he shaved me. That was fairly intense. When he was done, he used

a wet cloth to clean off the last of the soap. Then he went down on me, and down

on me and down on me. I lost count of how many times he made me come. When he

stopped, he put some baby oil on my newly shaved pussy. That’s when I felt there

was something he was hiding. After he oiled me, he used his fingers on me and

started me coming again. Then, I swear, he tried to see how long he could make

me come. He used his tongue, his fingers, his prick, then started over with his

tongue. He did it so long that I couldn’t catch my breath. When he untied me, I

was dizzy. He had to help me to the bathroom. He wouldn’t let me take off the

blindfold right away, but I did feel that he’d left a patch of fuzz on the upper

right hand side of my pubic hair. It wasn’t until I’d spend another night just

like the last one (I did make him come three times, once in each aperture as he

called it) coming maybe a dozen separate times myself that I got to see myself in

the light. I kept that heart shaped pubic patch for a couple of months after

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At the time I thought he didn’t notice meWishful
thinking?. Later I found that just the opposite was truein his
basement, he had made a kind of voodoo shrine to me, and my picture
was on his coathangers, plus, he wanted his TWO DOLLARS!. I had
been watching him for maybe two months trying to decide what it was
about him that made my hormones go wildYes, they would all line up
and kick like the Rockettes.. When seated next to him I got so wet
that I was worried about leaving a stain on the chairlater I
realized that it was just my cigar-smoke that had triggered the
sprinkler above my desk…. I had read about pheromone in
relation to animals, but never thought that people were subject to
the same influencesCause I’m just a silly leetle girl. I could
*never* make a connection like *tha-at* Hee. Wanna see my
underwear?.
Why we frequently found ourselves in such close proximity
was another storyDoes this mean what I think it means…?. The
English department where I taughtEnglish as a second language did
not think a lowly adjunctgood word! needed a computer. In fact,
they didn’t even think I merited a deskor, hee hee, A POT TO PEE
IN! Silly ole me.. In reality, I didn’t need a computer as
programming was just a hobby for meYes, I think most English profs
would agree. “Computers…BAH!. I just liked the idea of making
a machine my slaveI, of course, prefer to make a slave my machine,
but hey, different strokes…
Thus we found ourselves seated in front of our respective
IBM clonesnothing gets me going like erotica chock-full of
computer references. If she later mentions IMSAI, and misspells
it, I will surely die. Altair? S-100 bus? Oh the humanity! on
an almost daily basis. With a little detective workI *asked* him.
Call me Samantha Spayed! I found out that his name was Alex and he
was an water poloinstructor in the computer science department.
Even if he had been a sexual zilchzero, I still would have
probably noticed him as we were the ONLY users of the two PCs in a
faculty lab filled with Macsand the only two who wore leather
bullet-bras *over* our halter tops. God! how I hated those
machinesWhat’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like
comp.sys.Amiga.Advocacy?. My prejudiceGod, how I *hate*
serendipidists!, like mostof my other unattractive features was
inherited, in my caseof the clap from my father. He has been
working with computers for the last 30 yearsin fact, he *invented*
the transistor! Shocking.. As a memento, he gave me his original
IMSA 8080Oh God, she did it! still in working order. I had been
brought up to think that computers should not be `cute’nor should
Sally Fields, but she’s a *button*!.
HermanGoering, the director of the lab, must have picked up
on my vibesbecause it wasn’t a cordless one, but one of those big
white mongo plug-in deals with the end that looks like a disc
brake. And boy, was it loud. as he would barely give me the time
of dayDoes anybody really know what time it is? Does anybody
really care. Lemme see, it’s six to four. That is, until I
hatched MY PLANI would corner the world silver market and then
found the USFL!.
One day, finally overcoming my shynessshyness is nice, but
shyness can stop you from doing all the things in life that you
want to, I glanced over at AlexTREBECK! Together, we would RULE
THE WORLD!!. Actually, I looked at his hallmonitorarmband,
notable for the penciled-in swastika and realized that he was
trying to piratea ship! But if you’re not the Dread Pirate
Roberts, then who is? an applicationfor employment at Denny’s,
which is silly, because if you just ask, they are required by law
to give you one..
“If HermanMelville catches you, he will hang you by
yourbarnacles and huge, gaping blowhole thumbnails and tattoo Mac
icons on strange parts of your body.Honey, there ain’t a part of
me that’s *not* strange. I’m from Canada.”
AlexWinter laughed and said”There’s madness afoot at the
Circle-K this eve”, “Oh, Herman and I are good buddiesWhat is…a
euphemism for ‘lifemates’?. I teach Pascal usingChisembop and
‘Hooked on Phonics’ the Mac and I frequently have to ask him
questions. Actually, I make up the questions so I can stay on his
good sidehis *BACK*!!.”
After the ice was broken, we began to skatetalk every day.
On about the third day, I found out about HIS OFFICEHe
was…POPE!. Since he was an instructor, the university deemedI
love when a word like this crops up. Remember ‘adjunct’?
‘Merited’?? And now *this*. to give him an office. It was a
hastyretreat sheetrock affair of about 70 square feet and a very
large Steelcase deskum, excuse me. It was a “hasty” office?
Well…you’re the wordsmith.. On the downsideof five o’clock here
at WOGL, and I’m gonna be sending you home with a little Bay City
Rollers Action: S–A–T-U-R–D-A-Y. NIGHT!?, it was located off
the very room in which I satthe *very*!. Despite these
limitations, it had a door with a lockof angel-hair pasta Scotch-
taped to it, the meaning of which eludes me even now. This was not
the point when I began to formulate MY 5 YEARPLAN, but I am sure
that it was an inspirationI sniffed again. My mistake. Per….
MY 5 YEARPLAN took its focus the day Alex and I were on
the elevator togetherFirst, I would arrest all the artists and
philosophers. Then I would make everyone wear gray and cut their
hair like Moe Howard. Then…. It was the typical cattle car
scenelots of shit on the floor and a crazy cowboy or two getting
their rocks off.. We were jammed in like sardines and the only
redeeming factor that when pressed against each other I realized
that Alex was sporting a very big hard onbloodlog. After this
revelation and a few later surreptitious glances, I realized that
…End of the part1. To be continued..

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
explained these people were called infantilists, who loved to dress and
play as babies, but didn’t want to actually play “with babies” or children
at all. They just wanted to be babied and loved the way a mommy loved her
little baby.

In most ways they were as normal as any man, and could be capable lovers
and supporters, but needed to be babied sometimes to relieve stress and
escape from the pressures of their demanding roles and jobs.

As Ann thought about this it seemed to make so much sense, and besides here
was this learned doctor, her new friend, explaining it all softly to her,
and telling her she felt it was alright.

Finally, Dr. Whetmore said “John is an infantilist Ann. He wants to wear
diapers and baby panties, and be treated as a baby sometimes to help him
relieve the pressure of his job. That is why he has been so sick,
especially when you told him you wanted to have a new baby in your family.
It made him think you wanted someone new to love and care for and that you
wouldn’t accept the baby inside him and let it come out.

John is lying here now, Ann and has been listening to a special tape I made
for him to help him feel better physically and to help him feel better
about himself. He also has been receiving an IV with pentathol in it so we
can talk to him and ask him questions and get the honest answers.

Would you like to talk to John and ask him about his being a baby, Ann ?”

Ann paused for a second, while she thought about her husband, the 33 year
old executive, being a baby, then finally said “I’m not sure, but I should
find out. If that’s what he needs to get better, then I should know how to
help him. I do love him, and don’t want to hurt him !!”

“Very good Ann, come and sit over here, where John can see you and you can
talk. I’ll speak to him for a few minutes then you can ask him questions.”

As Ann pulled her chair over closer to the couch, she recognized the young
man now as her husband John. The doctor talked to John for a few minutes
and finally said “John, your wife Ann is here now and wants to talk to you.
She knows you want to be a big baby, and to be her baby, so you can feel
comfortable about talking to her. Be a good boy and answer her questions
honestly and properly, just as you do for me.”

To Ann she said “Go ahead, Ann, ask him anything you want.”

Ann hesitated at first then said “John do you feel better knowing I know
you want to be babied ??” to which he replied “Yes, much better.” then
asked her “Do you want to baby me ??”

Ann didn’t know what to say for sure, but finally said “I think so, but I
don’t have much experience. What do I have to do ??”

At this, Dr. Whetmore interrupted, and said “Ann, you just have to treat
John like a baby. Love him, take care of him. Feed him when he’s hungry,
help him get dressed, and change his wet or dirty diapers when he need
changing. You can do that can’t you ??”

At first Ann seemed a little shocked by the idea of changing diapers on her
husband, but then as the doctor told her it was just like playing dolls,
…End of the part2. To be continued..

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–

Archive-name: Fetish/biggirl.txt
Archive-author:
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She had looked very different at the time of her first serious modelling.
Her breasts were smaller then, her body tighter, her face younger. She
still remembered the thoughts running around in photographer’s head – being
a teenage mindreader can be very educational. Elizabeth had learned to accept
that as she grew older and wiser, and nowadays she never peeked really deep
into other person’s mind. There was never anything beautiful to be found,
only guilt, hate and chaos their conscious level was never aware of. She had,
of course, been taught the tricks of the trade by the undisputed master,
professor Xavier, but sometimes she wondered if she really could adjust how
deep she probed. Perhaps she saw everything other people had stuffed inside
their heads, just refusing to know it consciously.

Sensors indicated someone at the door, but she didn’t have to look at the
monitor to recognize her. Dazzler, the show-off mutant with power to transform
sound into light, entered the room carrying two cups of coffee.

“Found anything interesting?” she asked as she set the cups on a small table.

“No”, Elizabeth said and reached for the cup. She didn’t have to look at it
directly, since she saw it through Alison’s eyes. The multimedia show on the
monitor ended and another menu appeared. She sipped her coffee and swallowed
it quickly, because it was still a little bit hot.

“Have the boys returned?” she asked back.

“Not yet”, Alison said and inserted the cassette into the stereo. It was U2’s
Rattle and Hum, one of her favorites after Tina Turner. The bass line of
“Bullet” filled the air, first loud, then quieter as Alison loaded her body
with music.

“It’s OK, they can definitely take care of theirselves”, Elizabeth said and
drank again, this time ready for heat. “We survived the Inferno, defeated
Reavers, even M-Squad…” – she giggled now with Alison – “they really would
not let a bunch of common crooks give them any trouble, now would they?”

“Definitely”, Alison answered.

“How’s Rogue?”

“Still sleeping. I checked her a five minutes ago. The sedative is still
effective.”

“Do you think that she’s going to get herself together?” Elizabeth asked.

Alison took some time before answering. They both knew what Rogue had to
go through every day, probably until the end of her life. She was never
able to touch anyone, since slightest physical contact caused her to suck
the target’s mind into her body, turn to him. It was not a beautiful sight
nor a happy state of mind. She had – accidentally – taken Carol Danvers
permanently inside her, and these personas hadn’t gotten along very well
recently. All that was needed to that was to touch her a little bit too
long. She could never feel what it was like to sleep a whole night with
someone she loved, naked bodies touching each other everywhere, every time.
Her crimes had been notorious, yes, but the punishment had been out of
every proportion.

“I… really don’t know. We must hope so.”

Elizabeth streched her hands and yawned. She looked at the clock and was
surprised to realize that it was so late already. Her shoulders felt like
she was Colossus. Alison was quick to help her teammate and stepped behind
her. Elizabeth relaxed in her chair as Alison started rubbing her shoulders
and neck.

“That feels nice”, she complimented. Her hand reached for a key, but she
stumbled and hit the key next to the one she’d intended. “Hmph”, she said,
pressing the right key, but the machine was already running. Another multi-
media about her started to run.

“Browsing through your file?” Alison asked, running her fingertips over
and over her shoulders. “Isn’t it surprising how they got all that data
about us. You know, my file is full of stuff I wasn’t aware of myself.”

Elizabeth didn’t bother to stop the computer, instead she leaned back,
closed her eyes and let Alison relax her completely. She breathed peace-
fully, her mind wondering around. Suddenly Alison’s hands stopped what
they were doing, just in the middle of where they really shouldn’t have
done that. Elizabeth felt like a symphony had ended abruptly into sound
of everyday noise.

“Don’t stop”, she said quickly, with her eyes shut. Alison was stunned
for a second, they she started making a sound reminding Elizabeth of when
her girlfriends had caught her kissing a boy when she was twelve. She saw
the reason in her mind when Alison started to giggle.

Elizabeth’s eyes and mouth opened wide and she reached for the keyboard.
On the monitor there were sensuos photos of her – without a strand. She
gasped for air with disbelief – the guy had promised to destroy those
photos when she’d came over next day to tell that she’d changed her mind!
How could she have been so naive and stupid then? Alison was giggling aloud
now, almost falling down on the floor as Elizabeth pressed the buttons
frantically, trying to make the computer stop.

…End of the part1. To be continued..

END OF PART 1
–

I read with a smile the phrase in Will Ray’s note on photoswap, “two letters
to the editor in pamela’s pantyhose”.. My own true love and fiancee is named
Pamela, and she wore pantyhose to work all the time when I first began dating
her, last January (1990).. Soon after our first bonding and wonderful love-
making, I bought Pamela beautiful garter belts, a Merry Widow with garters
and several pairs of finest sheer stockings (including silk ones from Italy).
When Pam and I went to a concert soon after, she said to me as we walked from
the garage to the concert hall, “Jerry, I really love the feel of these stock-
ings! They are so sensual – and I can feel them move a bit as I walk along. I
wore stockings last in 1970, so I forgot all about how they feel. They do make
me feel a little uncertain though, as I feel the wind come under my skirt and
all the way up to the crotch of my panties – that is a strange (but not un-
friendly) sensation!”
Because of her comment, I decided to buy her some knee-high stockings to
see how Pamela would like them. She wore them under a long jeans skirt when
we went over to visit her mother’s recently. As Pam sat comfortably opposite
me I could see the tops of her knee-highs and their not lovely top elastics
and some of her (lovely) legs showing too.. when I told her about this pri-
vately later, she turned beet red and said she’d probably only wear the knee-
highs under slacks or jeans in the future – even thought I assured her that
she looked charming and so desirable as I had viewed her.
Now I took the step which moved us inexorably to the most exciting permanent
change I would have ever thought possible for Pamela and me: I looked very
carefully through the entire hosiery section of an upscale department store
and found some “thigh high sheer stockings”… I got these for her and Pam
thanked me, saying she had not known this type existed.
On our next date, after a great dinner and relaxed drive under moonlight,
Pamela and I retired to my motel room where she sat on the edge of my water-
bed. We just dropped back together, fully clothed onto the bed, and rocked
in laughter and happiness. I hadn’t seen her for several weeks, so we just
hugged and held each other for the longest time, enjoying every minute of
our experience. Ater our soft as baby skin kisses produced yearning sighs
from Pamela’s throat, I began caressing her face, her hair and her neck. She
put her mouth up to my ear and breathed the warmest, wettest air in there,
bringing me to an advanced state of love readiness seconds later! I softly
rubbed her shoulders and caressed her down her sides, only barely making the
gentlest contact with her sensitive, lovely breasts. Pamela was caressing my
back eagerly and unbuttoning my shirt to insert her hand in to feel my chest
and to tease my nipples to stiff readiness. As I continued to caress down
her skirt, she responded with little urging mews and invitingly spread her
legs slightly apart for me. I reached under the hem of her long skirt, and
first felt her silky stockinged legs – then I was aware of not one but two
layers of slip Pamela wore (she later told me that one slip was too short
for the skirt but had a very pretty top to be seen under her transparent
blouse, and the second slip had the right length.) This extra amount of
underwear was intriguing me strongly! I caressed gradually higher up Pam’s
leg, felt the sexy top binding elastic and moved onto her super soft leg
and thigh skin… so warm, so responsive to my touch! As I moved closer to my
“heaven” I realized that there was no deterrant to the progress of my hand,
even to the sensual globe of her buttock cheek!!! What a great surprise for
me – Pam wasn’t wearing any panties!! It blew my mind, and we advanced to one
of the fullest episodes of wanton and abandoned loving we have ever had. We
both came several times and felt totally united, as if this were the very first
time our bodies had ever joined. The water bed was our friend, adding its own
motion to encourage new angles, new directions, new delights to each of us.
Later, after lovingly reviewing our happiness in light soft talking, I asked
Pamela about the reason for not wearing any panties.. it had turned me on so
very excitedly. She said that she learned by wearing garter belt, stockings
and panties that she really loved the feel of the wind under her skirt, climb-
ing all the way to her crotch – but not quite getting TO her. So, she told me,
that she experimented one day wearing the thigh-high stockings and no panties
to her office… she said, “It was so terrific.. I came in the car, just from
the motion on the car’s seat and vibration of traffic. Then, at the office, I
could feel (really FEEL) the seat of my chair. And I felt wickedly erotic as
I stood talking with men who work with me, knowing that under my skirt there
was no impediment to their seeing my pussy were I to lean down to the bottom
drawer of a filing cabinet to extract something! Now, I have not had a urinary
infection for weeks, and I always used to get them when I wore pantyhose all
the time. So, this is how I dress almost every day.. now. I’m so glad you
approve!!!” (note to female readers… please give this sensual dressing
technique a try… you may solve any of several genital discomforts related
to airless confinement of pantyhose (not pretty for us men to gaze upon any-
way) – you may achieve a great double benefit when you feel turned on by what
you FEEL, and your lovers, boyfriends, husbands are electrically excited when
you let them KNOW what is under your dress or skirt!!! Have fun!) Yours,
ErosJer

—

bother me much. Stay if you like. I’ll admit, though, that I had to switch

gears there. I never expected it here.”

“Well, I’m done, if you want me to leave.”

“No, actually, it’s pretty funny. I could use a good laugh after what I’ve

gone through tonight. Damn machinery. Found a bug in the chip, and I thought

it was the simulator all this time. Stinking bug in the user interface covered

it up for two days.”

“Know what you mean. Had a few of those myself. Y’know, this is kind of

fun.”

“Yeah; kind of intimate, without anyone around to tell us how silly we’re

being.”

“Are we?”

“I guess not. If either of us thought so, we’d leave.”

“Yup.”

“Say, if you were done, what were you still doing in here? Smelling the

place? Is it any different?”

“Yeah, it’s different, but I couldn’t say how. Not really better or worse,

but like walking into a bathroom in a strange house.” I avoided her direct

question.

“So you stayed longer to smell a different smell?” The teasing in her voice

had obvious intent, and I could have played along if I hadn’t been actually

doing what she was jokingly implying. I swallowed as she finished her much-

needed peeing.

“Sorry, did I hit an indelicate subject?”

“No offense, but do you want to know the truth?” Very honest here, letting

her really think about it.

She thought. She came back in the same tone. “Yes, I’d really like to, and

thank you for the offer.”

We had just made a great leap in trust, not uncommon at large meetings, but

new to me on a personal level, in spite of my four years with this high-powered

organization.

“Well, I got the batch queue filled with diagnostic runs, had nothing to do,

and made the happy mistake of checking the newsgroup for erotic stories. There

was a particularly good one tonight. I had to come in here anyway, and uh,

quite frankly, I was following business with pleasure when you came in.”

“Wow! I’m flattered! Is this part of the company culture?”

“Doing it, no. Telling you about? I hardly think there’s a corporate

policy to cover it. Did I shock you?”

“No, actually, I’m quite honored to be trusted so much.” I heard her pull

off some toilet paper, and noticed under the stall partition how a dainty foot

moved slightly as she wiped.

“I hope I didn’t upset anything.”

“As long as we’re being honest, I was just getting into it. Surprise kind of

breaks the mood, though.”

“Yeah, it does. I’m sorry. Well, I’m done here. See you at the sink?”

“It’s a date.”

We both flushed, and I got myself composed again while she quickly re-did

whatever was undone, and headed up to the sinks. I heard two water spigots

…End of the part4. To be continued..

Archive-title: Julie Jumps (me)

One lucky man’s adventures at the office. 1/31/89

Julie was a large, intelligent woman. She stood close

to 6 feet tall and had probably been rather overweight at one

time but had obviously gotten it well under control. She had

black hair and green eyes that always looked sharply and could

sparkle with fun at times. Obviously highly intelligent, you

could never be sure exactly what she was thinking.

Her figure was ample, perhaps 42-38-42, and her strong

frame gave her a well-put-together look. She always dressed

impeccably at work, wearing clothes that flattered her while

remaining relatively conservative.

Julie and I had always gotten along well, sharing jokes

in the elevator or just smiling and saying hi in the hallways.

I had always been attracted to her. I like that self confidence

that allows a woman to smile unabashedly at men in a way that

says that she never feels herself to be less than they. Julie

was definitely an strong and assertive woman, and easily the

equal to any man.

One day I was getting a drink at the water fountain down

the hall when she walked by. The water fountain was located

around a bend in the hall from the office doors, and was next

to the door to the ladies room. She had just come out of the

ladies room, and as she walked by she gently swatted my seat. I

was so surprised I almost bumped my head on the wall behind the

fountain.

“Now now!” I said as I quickly straightened up and

looked after her. She looked back with a big grin and then

turned and walked back to me.

“You want some more, little boy?” she teased, grinning

wider and looking slightly down on me.

“You’d better watch out.” I shot back. “I might take

you up on that!”

She took a breath, thrusting her large breasts out at me

slightly. “You might, eh?” she said, still grinning. “And what

if I said ‘Let’s’?”

My heart began to pound and I said “I’d like that, I’m

sure.”

“Step this way, young man.” she said, and, taking my

hand, led me around the corner away from the office to another

short hall section where she opened a phone closet door. My

heart was pounding louder now, and I was already feeling a glow

of warmth coming over me. My nerves tingled with tension and

anticipation. I had had dreams like this occasionally for

months, but never considered them a real possibility.

…End of the part1. To be continued..

Oh really? I was tired, but not so tired I didn’t pick up on the possible

implications of that statement right away. And even if it didn’t mean what I

hoped, it still sounded better than standing out in the cold for maybe hours

trying to get a ride from some soft-hearted motorist. It wouldn’t be the first

time I had done that and I wasn’t looking forward to doing it again. “Sure.” I

said, hoping I didn’t sound too eager, “It’s been a long day already. Thanks.”

“Thank *you*.” she murmured under her breath, and I wondered what that was

supposed to mean as I followed her to her apartment.

As I walked into Jenny’s apartment the first thing that hit me was the

all-permeating odor of catbox. It wasn’t too bad, though. I used to have a

cat myself, so I was used to it. The place was fairly small, with a kitchen

in an alcove off to my right and a short hallway to the left leading to the

bedrooms and bathroom. In front was the living room. There was a couch and

a couple of well-worn chairs. A small TV sat on a none-too-steady stand

opposite the couch and chairs. The place was clean, but cluttered.

Magazines and various articles of female clothing lay scattered about.

Jenny began picking up the latter while mumbling an apology. I remarked it

looked lots better than my place, which didn’t comfort her much since she

saw what my car looked like and could well imagine what my place must look

like.

She was probably right on the money.

After a few minutes the place was fairly straight. She plopped down in a

chair, exhausted. I landed on the couch feeling about the same. Exhausted,

but far from sleepy. “Nice place you got here.” I remarked.

“Thanks.” she smiled tiredly. “It was cheap and clean.” She sat up a

little and said, “I really appreciate the ride. And… I’m kinda glad

you’re here. I hate staying in this neighborhood by myself…” She looked

like she was going to say more but stopped and looked away instead.

I started to reply but felt something moving by my feet. I looked down

and saw a little grey ball of fur playing with my shoelaces. Gently I

reached down and picked it up. It was a kitten, about four months old, all

fuzz and golden eyes, which stared into mine. And sharp claws, which I

discovered a second later as he(?) decided he wanted down NOW. I complied

quickly before he could do any serious damage. He shot across the room in a

grey blur and disappeared under the coffee table.

Jenny was grinning at me. Suddenly she got up and said “Excuse me, I

gotta change and clean up a little. Make yourself at home. I won’t be

long.” And she disappeared into one of the other rooms. A moment later I

heard a shower running.

I never was very good at making myself at home in somebody else’s home.

Not to mention I was worn out from work and a funny little knot of tension

rested in the pit of my stomach. I turned on the TV and settled back on the

couch, trying to relax.

It wasn’t long before she was done. I turned to see her and had to hold

back a small gasp of surprise.

She stood in the hallway dressed in just a nightshirt that just came

down to her upper thighs, and apparently nothing else. The shirt was slit

…End of the part4. To be continued..

of cum that was already there. She was dripping wet! It looked as if she had

already cum over and over again. He licked the outside of her wet panties

and smiled as he felt her jerk. He slowly slid his hands around her nylon-

covered legs and tightened his grip. With that, he lowered his face into her

wetness and began to work at her with his wet tounge. She thrashed around

and began to wimper at the swirling of his tounge. He slowly sucked her swollen

clit up into his mouth, and her excitement made him hard as a rock. She tasted

good in his mouth, and he buried his whole face in her wet pussy. Her coarse

pubic hairs felt good on his face as he licked harder, becoming more forceful.

Her hands suddenly grasped the back of his head and started rhythmically

grinding her hips into his face. She screamed as her orgasm rocked through her

body and began fiercely and savagly slamming Mikes face in her swollen

wet hole. The amount of cum was stagering, as it dripped off his face and

covered him. He soon felt her body go limp, and drew his face away from her,

watching a thick and long strand of cum reach from his chin to her pussy.

The fire was just rising inside of Ella as she felt his wet and warm

tounge glide ofer her mound. She wanted him to just fuck her with his tounge

because it felt so good. It felt like no other to her, and she didn’t want him

to stop. She never wanted him to stop. She grasped the back of his head running

her fingers through his hair and forcibly shoved his face into her dripping

snatch. God how she loved it. His muscular face and dark eyes working its way

into her. His tounge felt so good inside of her, and she began to fel her

orgasm well up inside of her. She arched her body to the feel of the sex and

slammed his face into her. The orgasm ripped through her leaving her exhausted,

but in thinking of his huge cock thrusting inside of her, she regained energy.

“Fuck me!” She said as she changed positions on the couch. “I don;t

care how big it is. Force it inside of me. Make me hurt. Just fuckin take me!”

She screamed as she cluched the back of the leather couch in wait.

He watched as she spread out before him on the couch. He looked down

at her jet-black heels jutting out from the couch, and up her smooth long legs

to her flawless back and shoulders. He straddled her from behind and took a

firm grip on her shoulders. His long thick cock was pulsating and was hard

as a rock. He slowly brought it up under her, and then with a fierce thrusting

motion, buried it inside of her. He was me with huge spasms as his manhood

filled Ella beyond her wildest dreams. He closed his eyes and let the

sensation of her tight pussy gripping his cock take him away. She dialated

her pussy around his prick, and moved with him to the motions. He began

to thrust it in and out, letting the warm pocket take all of him in.

It felt so good that he never wanted to cum, but he soon began to feel as if

that was inevitable. The warmness that surrounded him took him away as he

began to thrust harder and harder, deeper and deeper. He was smashing her

into the back of the couch with his hard thrusts, and that muffled her screams

of passion. He grabbed her garter straps, and began to pull her into his fuck

as he felt the screaming orgasm well up inside of him. Soon, he knew that he

had to come, so with a strong pump, his load exploded out of him, and shot deep

within her dark confines. She kept grinding her hips back into him, and soon

the sensitive head made him back out of her. As soon as he was out, she slumped

down on the couch, tired from the continuous orgasms that had assulted her

body.

‘Holy Shit!’ She thought as he rammed his thick dick inside of her. It

filled her up to the point of agony. She had never has something so big inside

of her. It stretched her out and the sliding motions made it feel like a red

hot poker sliding in and out of her cunt. It was almost painfull, but she

closed her eyes and turned the pain into intense pleasure. She cryed out as she

felt him pumping against her back. She gripped the couch tightly, and began to

pump her hips into his fuck, trying as hard as she could to get him as deep as

she could inside of her. He smashed her face into the supple leather couch, and

she gasped as she felt him grow even bigger as his orgasm was welling up. She

screamed out as her own orgasm began to flutter, and as she felt the hot cum

splash up inside of her cunt, she let loose and shuddered as an electrifying

orgasm ripped through her body leaving her breathless. Cum was dripping out of

her snatch, and she reached down and rubbed the slimy substance into her,

sliding a long finger inside of her. She then slumped down against the couch

and rested, and he fell on top of her, breathing heavily.

–

Archive-title: Sperm Deposit

I 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.

…End of the part1. To be continued..

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