Gilman was handed the plans and specification and bothers David and Lenny agreed to spend a week building the extension to the Jenks’ house, joining Gilman and a registered builder. Lenny called Sid Monks whom they’d worked with building their parents’ extension and he agreed to run the project for $2000 plus all construction materials at cost. The framing would arrive pre-cut and assembled in sections and the roof trusses would also arrive ready to lift into place.
Lenny arriving back at the table had said, “Sid said once suppliers are told it’s an emergency project for Reg Jenks the materials and projects will be invoiced at cost or even donated. Reg is a legend around these parts as the greatest footballer in this region’s history and also representing the country in skeet shooting and then for what he put back into both sports as a coach and administrator for two decades.”
“Are you going to marry Paris,” his mom asked softly.
All eyes were on him. Gilman looked at the ceiling and mumbled, “Appears so.” The family conference resumed with Bert looking at Jess and she nodded.
“Gilman, your mother and I have agreed to do something for you as it’s obvious that Lenny and David have put their backs into improving this farm so it’s become their inheritance. Mom and I would like to buy you a good piece of land or give you the cash equivalent.”
Gilman looked at his parents and grinned. “Thanks folk, I’ll take the cash and buy my way back into my old university.”
“Is that Chaplain still there?” his mom asked stonily.
“Oh yes, and his over-sexed daughters.”
“In that case I want the money spent on land acquisition.”
“Ah mom, you spoiler. I was only pulling your tit. Land would be fine, and thanks, I thought I was the Black Sheep.”
Jess rubbed his hair and said he was lovely as a kid. “Any ideas about what land and we’d like to think about it?”
“Well, my mind has been ticking. As you know orchard farming is and up and down business and the Jenks have diversified and are now expanding into olives. The Thompson’s on their northern boundary have allowed their farm to rundown but it’s still rated as the best property in the district to finish off grass-raised cattle for market. Ted and Olive are both in their mid seventies and have no children. I’ve been thinking…”
“Good thinking son, " said his father. “Even if you split with the Jenks’ girl it would remain a stand-alone operation. But integrate that income with the orchard income and you’d be amid a little gold mine. What say I have a little yarn with Olive and Ted at the club over dinner one night?”
“Yeah, why not? Just remember I have yet to talk romance to Paris”
Gilman’s brothers chortled as if Gilman had just told them the joke of the year and even his parents looked at him in disbelief.
“That girl has an unladylike reputation and your reputation is bigger and dirtier,” his mom sniffed.
His father topped that. “Is there something wrong with your gear” and everyone including the uncomfortable Gilman joined in the laughter.
On the way home that afternoon Gilman had everything apart from the council sewn up. Lenny had called two concrete workers who were big into skeet shooting and they were recruited as volunteers and David did the same with two former footballers. As Gilman arrived back at the orchard he saw the tractor and trailer half loaded in the doorway of the huge hay barn. Paris had said it was time to start laying out hay bales ready to break open and spread over the roots of the less hardy trees before the frosts and snows arrived. He found Paris asleep on a pile of ruptured hay bales, legs apart. That sent a lusty thought through his mind and he licked his lips. He stretched out beside her and went to sleep.
Paris awoke and stifling a yawn looked around and saw Dawn and Meg was fast asleep on the dirt floor. God, how long had she been asleep, slackening on the job? She flung out her right hand to help push up and realized she was pushing on a leg bone, a leg in softer trousers than jeans. She looked and smiled: Gilman was home.
Standing and brushing off hay she looked down fondly at Gilman and saw his legs were wide open and that made her think of sex. A Sunday late afternoon roll in the hay with a guy was not a bad idea, especially for a gal who hadn’t had one for almost two months.
Grinning, hay in her hair, Paris slipped carefully between Gilman’s legs. She didn’t want him waking and finding some excuse to say no. Gently she unzipped him and had little difficulty hauling his cock out the side of his underpants because it was so shriveled.
Um, what now? It wasn’t erecting or whatever guys called it.
Something inside her, something probably related to mothering instinct, guided her. Paris gently blew on the limp dick.
Nothing.
She blew on her hands, warming them, and grasped the wrinkled white object between two fingers against her warmed palms. Either it moved slightly or she was over-expecting. Paris applied another airstream.
Nothing.
But when she blew air straight on to the end of his dick it began to fatten in her hand. Encouraged she dropped it to rip open her shirt and drop her bra below her tits (yes, Paris though of them as tits when with a man as they liked that word – well, most of them). She giggled softly at her silent ranting and her audacity. She picked up Mr Limp and placed it between her warm mounds. Mr Limp’s color improved and strength began to flow into him.
Paris froze as Gilman stirred and muttered something that sounded like ‘fat cattle.’ His breathing rate slowed again and Paris resumed her quest to be fucked. She blew on the head, watching it closely. It thickened and the pee-hole became larger. She dabbed her tongue at it and shivered in excitement, feeling her breasts swelling and knowing her nipples would be uptight waiting to be caressed or lashed or even nibbled. Hopefully they’d get the lot. Paris dribbled a dob of saliva aiming right at the pee-hole.
Right on target!.
Well she’d have to be convulsing to have missed hovering that close.
“What are you doing?”
“Oh hello. I’m fucking you. Like to join me? We have been introduced and we are long overdue for this.”
Stretching, Gilman laughed and said that was a convincing case. “Go ahead,” he said, digging both hands into her short curly hair.
Continue next page ……
Paris could feel herself warming up and reached between her legs with her free hand to slap her pussy a few times, indicating to it to lube up and wait patiently. With that hand on the way back up she tweaked a nipple hard as confirmation it would not be forgotten. Grasping his dick in both hands, committing to taking the lot although earlier she’d declared it was too big for her, Paris slid her tongue around the helmet and grinned triumphantly as that earned a small groan from the beneficiary. She licked it four times, the last stroked she’d lifted it and continued right down to his hairy balls, earning a much longer groan from him.
She then went to work on to, attempting to perform like a champ, until finishing with a big swallow and with cum running out the sides of her mouth.
“How was that?” she said, pulling up and fluttering her eyelashes.
He looked at her starry-eyed and asked, “What planet am I on?”
God, Paris knew she would really love this man and that expectation would grow once he filled her with that dick.
Gilman stood and undressed, the two dogs eyeing him warily. Paris had the lewd thought of Meg coming in behind him and…she tried to block out that thought, convulsed and enjoyed an orgasm.
Gilman kissed her, licked her face and then kissed her deeply at their tongues touched. He then attended to her breasts and she swelled in pride when he lifted to tell her how beautiful they were.
“Thank you,” she half panted. “My pussy…” She didn’t finish, a little annoyed she was giving instructions. But he was a good boy and immediately went down on her and soon had his tongue buried, possible farther than any tongue had ever been buried in her. She wet it, but not with pee.
Gilman then sank into her, Paris guiding in his erection that perhaps was now even longer and fatter. She accommodated it with apparent ease, making her wonder what she’d been worried about. Perhaps in her desire for him to have a big one her mind had obligingly magnified it to satisfy her. She began rocking and he began pumping and she imagined Meg licking his balls and erupted.
“I felt that,” he said. “Hope there are more left to come.”
“Sure, an unlimited supply,” she fanaticized.
Missionary was okay. Was it ever anything else? She thought about loaning Gilman to her mom, as she’d be in desperate need with her father incapacitated. That caused her to blow again and Gilman murmured good girl and Paris thought of Mr Samuels who was roughly her mom’s age and mom and her friends after a few wines would refer to Mr Samuels as ‘stickman’. Women together over liquor tended to become dirty, Paris thought as Gilman pulled out. What was he doing? He hadn’t cum? Oh no, was he one of those one-shot guys and then she remembered the Chaplain’s daughters and smiled, knowing a one-shot guy wouldn’t take on two females simultaneously.
Gilman pulled her on to her side, smiling at her to boost her confidence and perhaps expectations, and lifted her leg high. She grabbed it and pulled it back almost level with her ear, opening herself wide and she smiled noting his pleasure that she had that flexibility. He knelt below her on the pile of hay and Paris gurgled loudly in delight as she was pulled on to his dripping cock to rest partly on his left hip. She puffed and he penetrated so far in that probably only a dildo had preceded him at that distance. He pulled her raised leg towards him to hook an arm around it for balance and leverage and satisfied he had a stable platform began stroking into her, telling her it wasn’t necessary for her to move.
“Good. I have hay up my butt.”
“I’ll hook it out with my dick when we’ve finished here,” he said, grinning evilly.
Gawd, she hadn’t been butt-fucked for years. Or was he joking? Well it didn’t matter; that was something they could try on the second night in the honeymoon suite.
Gilman began talking to Paris and she listened wide-eyed. He told her he expected to have the house extension completed in two weeks including a concrete ramp that would allow her father to be wheeled straight into the SUV that would be driven up on the extended driveway beside it. Once her father was stronger and more mobile he’d be able to go down the ramp in his wheelchair or walking frame, perhaps unassisted.
“You darling boy. You are so wonderful,” she said. “It’s miraculous that you have come into the life of my family.”
Paris stared at him, thumping back at him. Gilman began sweating and his brow attempted to knot itself. She squeezed on his thrusting cock.
“O-o-o-o-h,” Gilman groaned feeling his release coming at him like a runaway train. “Paris my only love. Will you marry me?”
“Yes!” she screamed. “Roll me in the hay like this and I’m yours for life.” Paris screamed even louder, almost fainting as she bucked into her biggest release ever. She thought she’d call Mr Samuels in the morning to arrange him to do his annual servicing of the packing machinery and the jam bottling plant. She thought of Mr Samuels also servicing her mother – she and Gilman should go away from the orchard that day – and wham, she has hit again and she was wet with sweat. Then just as she fell back to rest, exhausted, Meg came at her licking her chops and nose held high, catching the scent.
“Fuck off Meg,” she yelled, and slammed into another release and being swept by the horrible thought she was so tuckered out she’d have to be carried back to the house. But she smiled. At least she was back into getting it regularly again.
Gilman then began, almost mumbling, to tell her about the plan to purchase the farm next door, to integrate the two properties after the retirement of her parents and they must retain the existing name of the Jenks’ Family Orchard. Once they were married she should call herself Paris Philips-Jenks.
Paris yawned deeply, eyelids fluttering.
“Oh you are such a lovely boy,” she sighed, thinking what a perfect afternoon it had been. But then he asked hopefully, “Ready to go again?”
The End
How I Met Alyson Michalka
How I met Alyson Michalka: (this is not true, mostly a fantasy of mine that I wish would happen)
I’m 23, and a recent college grad, with a bachelor’s in physics and a minor in math. I was out in California, interviewing for a teaching job at a local high school. After having a really good interview, I decided to walk around for a bit before heading back to the hotel I was staying at. It was a beautiful day out, and I was thinking that I would probably get the job, when somebody bumped into me.
“Oh my God! I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” I look at the person who bumped into me, and my jaw dropped. This girl is looking at me with concern.
Stunning, blonde, tall, about 5"8 or 5"9, beautiful green eyes and a face that would make any man fantasize about, all on a body to die for. “I’m so sorry about that,” she says again. “I guess I wasn’t looking at where I was going.”
“Yeah, it’s okay,” I say. “I wasn’t really paying attention either.” I take another look at her. Dark green eyes and light blonde hair on a face that would be the object of any guy’s wet dream. I could tell she was checking me out, as well. I’m tall, about 6 foot 3, and since I had taken my suit jacket off, she could see that under my shirt, I definitely worked out. I smiled at her, and offered her my hand. “I’m Brian.”
“Alyson,” she said, shaking my hand. “Do you live around here?”
“Actually, I live in New York. I’m here interviewing for a teaching position that just opened up. Physics and math,” I said. That usually impresses people when I say that, and she was no exception.
“Wow, I was never good at science or math. You must be really smart,” she replied.
“Yeah, I’m pretty smart,” I tell her. “I had a 3.9 in college, so I think I know what I’m doing.”
“Look, I have to go, but do you want to maybe have dinner sometime, that way you can tell me about it?” she asks me.
“Yeah, that would be nice. I’d enjoy that. Do you know anywhere around here that’s any good?” I ask her, already imaging how great she would look naked.
“Actually, I was thinking my place. My sister is out for the night, so it was just going to be me…all alone, in my house.” As she was saying this, she was gently touching and rubbing my arm.
“Yeah, that would be nice,” I say. As I’m walking away, after having gotten directions to her house, I can’t help but think that I’m going to enjoy it here in California.
At around seven, I arrived at her house, wearing what I called “casual dressy”- a nice shirt, Dockers, and a pair of loafers. I rang the bell, and for the second time since meeting her I was struck speechless. She was wearing an almost entirely see-through nighty that barely went down below her hips, and one of those sexy robes that went down about an inch below her nightly. “Hi,” she says and kisses me lightly on the lips. “You look nice.”
“Yeah, so do you,” I say, my heart racing. I’m getting laid tonight, I think to myself. I walk into her house, noting the guitar and other music stuff. “You play guitar? Are you any good?” I ask her.
“Yeah, I’m a musician. I like it a lot,” she replies. “What would you like to drink?”
“Anything you have is fine,” I reply. I take the glass of wine she poured for me, still thinking how great she looked.
“Let’s go sit on the couch. Dinner is still gonna be a few minutes,” she says, interrupting my thoughts on how great she would look naked. She takes my hand, without waiting for me to reply, and guides me to her couch. We sit down, her obviously sitting fairly close to me. “So, you want to be a physics teacher, right? You must really be smart.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty smart. I’ve always liked science, and I’ve always enjoyed teaching, so I figured why not become a teacher,” I tell her, watching her hand gently rubbing my arm. Since she is so obviously coming on to me, I decide to see what she would let me do to her. I start rubbing her leg, and start running my eyes over her body, letting her notice that I’m checking her out. “So, you’re a musician. How long have you played guitar?”
“Well, I’ve played almost all my life. I really like it, and my sister and I have started our own group. Aly and AJ. Have you ever heard of us?” she asks me.
“No, I haven’t. Maybe later you can put on some of your songs. You know, after dinner and all that,” I say, while still gently stroking her leg, letting her know what I meant by all that.
“Yeah, I have all our CDs, so I can put them on whenever,” she says to me, while still caressing my arm. We talk about little things for a few more minutes, when all of a sudden she leans over and kisses me full on the lips. Startled, it takes me a second, but then I start kissing her back, my hand now moving up her leg to the inside of her thigh. We kiss for a few more seconds, when I stop, take her wine glass and put in on her coffee table, and start kissing her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, she starts nibbling on my ear, kissing the side of my face.
Continue next page ……
I slide my hand between her legs, and notice she isn’t wearing any panties. I start rubbing her pussy, causing her to start moaning softly. I can feel how wet she is, so I slowly insert one finger, then two and start finger-fucking her. About twenty seconds later, she yells and starts cumming on my hand. All the while I’m still fucking her with my fingers, causing her orgasm to continue for over a minute. When she’s done squirting, she takes my fingers and starts licking her juices off them.
“Wow, you’re a naughty girl, aren’t you,” I whisper to her as I start kissing and sucking her breasts. “I’d like a taste of that, if you don’t mind.” With that, I slowly start kissing my way down her stomach, taking my time.
“Just lick my pussy now!” Alyson says. Since I’m a nice guy and don’t want to disappoint a lady, I head on right down between her perfect legs, and kiss the inside of her thighs. “Hmm, you shave down here. I like that,” I say to her.
“Now! Just lick me!” she yells, ignoring me. So, I start licking her pussy, running my tongue all over it, gently swirling it around inside of her. I suck on her clit, and gently run my tongue over it. I alternate between licking her pussy, licking and sucking her clit, and kissing the inside of her thighs, just to tease her. “Ohhh, mmm, please, just lick me! Make me cum again!” she starts moaning to me. So, I focus entirely on her pussy, licking it all over, licking her on the inside. Her hands grab the back of my head, forcing me to stay where I am. I eat her for about two more minutes, when she tightens her hold on my head, starts panting heavily and moans “Oh, God, I’m cumming!” She starts gushing her juices into my face, as I try to lap up as much as I can. When she’s done writhing on the couch, she collapses onto it, letting go of my head. “Oh, Brian, that was wonderful,” she says quietly. I get up, lay down next to her, and start kissing her. “You taste wonderful, baby, absolutely wonderful,” I say.
“Oh, look though, you haven’t cum yet,” she says, noticing the huge lump in my pants. She gets off the couch, kneels in front of me, and undoes my belt buckle, and slowly lowers my pants and boxers to my ankles. “Wow. How big are you? Eight inches?” she asks me.
“Nine, actually,” I reply. With that, she licks the head a couple of times, and takes the first couple of inches into her mouth. Holy shit, I think to myself, my first full day in California is fucking awesome! “Oh fuck,” I moan out loud as she starts sucking me off, by now she has about five inches in her mouth, and using her left hand to jack the rest off. About twenty seconds of this, I grab her head and manage to grunt out “I’m cumming!” before unloading a hell of a lot of cum in her waiting mouth. Six or seven times my cock must have sent a load of cum into her mouth, her swallowing as much as she could. She missed a bit, which landed on her perfect tits. When I was done cumming, she swiped up what she missed, gave me a sly smile, and licked it from her fingers. “That was incredible,” I said.
“Would you be surprised that that was only my second time giving a guy a blowjob?” she asked me. “My last boyfriend kind of made me blow him, and was a jerk afterwards, so I dumped him. He wouldn’t even go down on me. I got the feeling he thought women were only good to please men. But you’re different. You went down on me, and didn’t even ask me to do the same. That’s nice. That’s why I’m going to let you do anything you want to me.”
“Really? Anything I want?” I ask her, my mind already imaging fucking that perfect ass of hers.
“Yes, anything you want,” she says to me, with a look in her eyes that said I was going to get everything from this girl. Without another word, she gets up, takes my hand and leads me to her room. We walk in, and she gently pushes me onto the bed, and removes what little she was wearing in the first place. As I stare at her naked body, I quickly remove my shirt and just throw it wherever. She starts checking me out, and I say in a cocky joking way “Yeah, I work out.” She starts giggling, gets on top of me on the bed, and gently shoves me down so I’m on my back. She puts her legs to either side of me, and says “Are you ready? I’m a virgin, so I want to remember this. Are you going to be good?”
I tell her that I will be better than she hopes for. She smiles, says “Alright then”, and lowers herself onto my cock. “OH MY GOD!!!” she cries out. “You are so fucking big! I can’t fit it all inside me.”
“That’s alright, you’re doing fine. Just do what you can, eventually you’ll get it all the way in,” I say to her. I put my hands on her hips, and start lightly thrusting my hips forward, feeling myself go inside her a little bit more each time. She starts rocking up and down, and soon we establish a rhythm, matching each other thrust for thrust. After a few minutes, I’m now all the way inside her, and she’s moaning my name. We’re fucking for a few minutes, when she says “I’m cumming!”, and starts bucking wildly, closing her eyes in orgasmic bliss. I can feel her pussy contracting as she cums, and also feel her pussy juices on my dick. This starts me cumming, and even though she had just given me a spectacular blowjob a few minutes ago, I shoot four or five times into her tight, wet hot pussy. This causes her to have another orgasm, and after she’s all done, she collapses onto me, both our chests heaving, gasping for breath.
“You were fantastic,” I say to her.
“You know I was really a virgin. You were my first,” she says to me. “Thanks for making it so wonderful.”
“I know. I could feel how tight you were. It was great, though. And it was my pleasure,” I tell her, as we both fall asleep.
The End
Long Time Coming
We are in the back seat of the car, leaving the airport and making our way back to your hotel. I am physically tired after the long trip, but even that can’t slow my pounding heart, mind racing at the thought of feeling you after being apart for more than two months. For two people who crave each other so much in every way, the time apart has been difficult. I love our sexy messages, knowing that even from the other side of the world I can turn you on makes me hot. But all that anticipation has me ready to boil over like a pot on a long, slow simmer.
I reach over and place my hand on your thigh and feel the desire rising off you like heat hovering above the asphalt on a sweltering day. Your cock is a monument to how long you have waited, and can no longer stand by idly. You try to avert your eyes from me, next to you now, inches away from the length of your body. You try not to notice the way my skin is glistening with sweat, or the glow of my tan…. You try not to fixate on the valley between my breasts, featured so perfectly by the v neck resting lazily there where you want your mouth… Or the peek-a-boo mesh of the light weight fabric, perfect for the heat and for teasing you to the brink with the hint of what lies beneath….
My hand squeezes your thigh and you murmur something about “not now” in an unconvincing manner, having given up resistance without really trying. I lean in and kiss your cheek suggestively, lingering for you to savor the scent of me, my hair tumbling across my face, silky against you… You reach up to run your hand through it and resist the urge to pull me forcefully to you, holding me by those long locks of chestnut tinged with natural highlights from the sun… Instead you stroke it gently and whisper in my ear in a punctuated manner, “I am going to take you back to my room, and pin you to the wall… And I am going to fuck you right there, standing at the door…”
We arrive at the hotel filled with urgency to feel and taste and touch each other… You motion a bellman to pick up the bags and place your arm around my waist, pulling me along side you with out wasting one second. Alone inside the elevator we are inseparable, burning as we touch and feel and taste each other, hands roaming, mouths connected as one, hearts pounding at the thought that someone could interrupt us at any moment.
As we make our way to the room, I can already feel the wetness between my legs, am dying to feel you there where I have not felt you in so long. I am beyond clear thought, dizzy with desire for you, to hold you, to feel you, to have you inside me in every possible way. Despite the number of times I have thought through this scene, told myself to practice restraint, we have an entire week to be one… I can not hold back.
We stumble inside the room, nearly drunk with lust for each other, and as promised you pin me forcefully to the wall. The weight of your entire body leaning against me is the most delicious sensation, torturing my nipples with the pressure of your chest against me. You rip the flimsy little shirt from my body, you must see those breasts, hold them in your hands, ravage them with your mouth… And there’s a knock at the door, “Bellman here…”
You dispatch the bellman as quickly as possible, trying not to give any hint that behind the partially opened door I stand nearly naked, breathing heavily and eating you alive with my eyes.
You return to me, seconds feeling like hours. More impatient now than ever you are done with clothes – you grab the side of my flowing skirt and tug it upwards, your hands grabbing greedily at my thighs… finding where I am waiting for you, wet already. Your fingers find their way inside my thong, stroking the silky, soft skin. You want to dive into my wetness, flowing in anticipation. Your mouth devours my breasts and nipples. I gasp in pleasure at the sensations of your hands and mouth on me, and you begin to kiss your way lower, tracing a path down the flat terrain of my belly, lower, making me pant as you approach my thighs, lower… until your mouth finds the place where your fingers have already opened me.
You sigh out loud as you taste my pussy, soft, smooth, wet… You lick me, lapping me up as if you have found water in the desert. You are feasting on my bare pussy, marked by a dark narrow patch of hair, eating me just as you have imagined, touching me like you’ve never been there… Finding every inch of me newly, exploring, tasting, touching until I can not wait a moment longer and I pull you back up to me. We kiss deeply, hungrily, tasting myself on your mouth I whisper in your ear, “I want you inside me now, I need to feel your cock inside me.”
I deftly drop your shorts to the floor and free your cock, stroking it wantonly in my hand. I want you inside me in the worst way, but there, pinned between you and the wall, feeling your swollen cock in my hand… I must first taste you. I drop to my knees in front of you and swallow you deeply. My god I’ve missed tasting you, feeling your hardness in my mouth. I slurp you greedily, pumping one hand the length of your thick shaft while the other massages your balls. My mouth surrounds your head with such attention, my tongue teasing the delicate underside while my hands are stroking you to the brink of exploding… And at that moment I extract myself from you. I stand to face you, kissing you deeply for you to taste the sex on my mouth.
You are driven, you must find release. You yank my skirt and thong down in one swift movement. The sight of me naked before you is enough to make you pause, if just for a moment, while you soak up the body you have fantasized over all these weeks. You raise my hands overhead, pressing your legs between mine, kicking one foot out to the side to spread my legs widely… You thrust your rock hard cock into me so deeply I gasp, and as promised you proceed to fuck me right there, at the hotel room door, with me pinned against the wall.
My head is spinning, your body slamming mine, the room punctuated by the sounds of our frenzied moans. I lift a leg, wrapping it around your waist to both angle you more deeply inside me and feel you rub my clit with every wall thumping stroke into me. The sensations are overwhelming; I am beyond thought, my body has taken over. My hands dig into your shoulders, clawing at you. You drop your head to my breast, biting at my nipple in a way I can not sustain for long. “Oh my god, you are going to make me cum like that! I want to get on top of you,” I tell you.
You lay down right there and I am on top of you, impaled by the length of your cock, soaking you with my wetness, riding you, feeling you fill me completely, stroking my clit, pumping my pussy, pinching my nipples… until I can’t hold back and I throw my head back, arching my back forward as my entire body shakes in orgasm. Hearing my screams, feeling my pussy pulsating tightly around you has you ready to cum despite your every desire to draw out the pleasure even longer… And you watch me letting go, see your hands on my breasts, my brown nipples hard between your finger tips, my body yours… and you can’t stop, the orgasm is coming from deep, deep, and you let go, shouting, moaning, grabbing my hips, pulling me down harder and harder on your cock as your cum shoots deep inside me, over and over, filling me, feeling me clench you tightly as we shake together, moaning, panting, tingling, sweat dripping, as I collapse onto your chest, still one with you, trying just to catch my breath, my entire body still in orgasm, quivering, gently shaking now in your arms. Complete, satiated, you are still inside me as we nod off gently.
The End
The Cum Drinkers Club
Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I would suck dick. After all, I was a straight, red-blooded all-American male. But there I was one Saturday night, on my knees in a hotel room with seven inches of trouser snake jammed down my throat.
I knew a load of cum was going to shoot into my mouth. The only question was whether I was going to spit or swallow. The distinction seemed important at the time. By my way of thinking then, if I swallowed, it would mark a point of no return. I’d cross a line and become all the way gay. And, egads, what if I swallowed and liked it? Then, I’d really be fucked.
It seemed that only one other factor kept me from being a total fag. The cock in my mouth was attached to a chick named Sara who had a body straight out of Playboy magazine.
I remained undecided about whether it mattered that two of Sara’s transgender “sisters” were waiting for their turns to fuck my face. Both sat on the hotel bed and stroked their cocks while watching me service Sara.
While contemplating all this, the moment I knew was coming finally arrived. Sara blasted her load in my mouth. She pulled out and flopped breathlessly onto the bed. The three cross-dressers stared at me as I held the jizz. I felt a little slip out of my lips and trickle down my chin. Sara tilted her head.
“Aren’t you going to swallow it, honey?” she asked.
My heart thumped. Even if I wanted to spew the cum, there was no good place to do it. My eyes searched frantically for a trash can or towel.
“Go on, baby,” Sara’s friend, Amy, said. “Just let it slide down your throat.”
She made it sound so easy. But the thought of slipping into Fag Kingdom scared the hell out of me.
That’s when the idea hit me – a solution right from Sara herself.
But before I go any further, let me explain how I got into this situation.
It started with a trip to the mall. I went to Brown’s department store to buy my stepmother some perfume for her birthday.
The chick working behind the perfume counter had a body unlike any I’d ever seen. She wore a tight, black dress with a scoop front that barely contained her perfect, round melons. I watched from across the aisle as she helped another customer. The chick bent over to open a cabinet. Her long, blonde hair fell into her face. She gracefully brushed it aside. A woody popped in my jeans as my eyes traced her long, lean legs to the pink panties barely showing under her dress.
The customer bought a bottle of Opium perfume and hurried away with her bag. The chick behind the counter was alone. I lunged at the chance to speak to her.
“Hi,” she said. “Can I help you?”
Her voice was beautiful. Just a touch husky, but all the way feminine.
“Yeah, you can help me,” I said. “Give me a bottle of Opium and your name and number.”
The chick smiled and tilted her head. She looked me over. I didn’t even try to hide my boner, which poked hard into my jeans. Her eyes lingered on the lump for a second before she shook herself out of the gaze.
“I don’t think you know what you’re getting into,” she said.
“Baby, I can handle anything you wanna throw my way,” I said.
Her blue eyes twinkled. I knew then that I’d shot and scored.
“OK,” she said. “We’ll see about that.”
She wrote quickly on a piece of paper and folded it in half before handing it to me.
“Now give me $87,” she said, as I shoved the note into my pocket.
“Sorry, babe,” I said. “I don’t pay for it.”
Her red lips curled up at the corners.
“Not even for perfume?” she asked.
The chick put a bottle into a paper bag with handles.
“That,” I said, “is not a problem.”
I whipped out my debit card and paid.
As I walked away, the chick said, “Hope to see you.”
“You will,” I said without looking back.
I headed for the Bass Pro Shops on the other side of the mall to check the prices on hunting knives. I waited until I was at the food court to read the note. It said:
“If you really think you can handle ANYTHING, meet me at 8 tonight at the Courtyard Marriott off exit 23. Room 301. WARNING: I won’t be alone.”
She signed her name, Sara, in cursive with a big swooping S.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Sara,” I said.
I shoved the note in my jeans pocket and kept walking toward Bass Pro Shops with a little extra pep in my step.
The store was slow for a Saturday, probably because everyone was at the big fishing tournament. Mike, a friend I’d met at the local community college, was working behind a glass case filled with knives.
“Dude,” he said, “What the fuck is up?”
We bumped fists.
“Oh, you know,” I said. “Just shopping for knives and picking up cooze.”
“Picking up cooze?” he asked. “Anything good?”
“Man, you ain’t going to fuckin’ believe this,” I said.
I took the note out of my pocket and handed it to him.
“Read it,” I said. “This chick down at Brown’s just gave that to me.”
Mike unfolded the paper and looked at it a few seconds. He smiled but with only half his mouth.
“Sara?” he asked. “Is that the chick who works at the perfume counter?”
“Yeah, you know her?” I asked.
He snickered.
“Yeah, I know her,” he said.
“So why are you laughing?” I asked.
“Nothing, nothing,” he said, while folding the note. He handed it back to me.
“What?” I asked.
“You going to meet her?” he asked, while crossing his arms.
“I don’t fuckin’ know now,” I said. “Would you just quit with the questions and tell me what you know?”
I was ready to jump over the counter and strangle him, even if he did have access to a small arsenal of knives. Visions of tit-fucking and cum splatters had been dancing through my head, but Mike was quickly dashing my hopes.
“Ok, take it easy,” he said. “I just hear she’s wild.”
“She’s wild?” I asked. “That’s it?”
“Yeah,” he said. “She likes to fuck a lot. She gets around.”
Relief flowed through me.
“Well, no shit,” I said. “Any girl that would give me a note like that sure as shit ain’t a virgin.”
“I guess so,” Mike said.
We stared at each silently for a couple seconds. I searched Mike’s face for answers but found nothing.
“So,” he finally said, “you want to see a knife?”
I looked at the array of knives behind the glass. Nothing interested me.
“Naw, fuck it,” I said. “Changed my mind. I’ll catch you later.”
“Ok,” Mike said. “I’ll see you around.”
A sly, smug smile spread across his face as I turned to leave.
At 7:30, I put on my best Metallica T-shirt and told my roommate I was “going to meet a chick.” The drive to the hotel took 20 minutes. I had a boner the whole way.
Air conditioning blasted me in the face as the lobby’s automatic doors swung open. It seemed like an unlikely place for a hot. nasty tryst. An old dude in a straw hat and Hawaiian shirt was checking in. Nearby, a guy in a golf shirt read a newspaper while sitting back in a leather chair next to a potted palm tree. I whipped by them and headed straight for the elevator.
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Room 301 was on the top floor at the end of a hallway. Mike’s bullshitting had completely slipped from my mind as I knocked on the door.
Sara threw open the door. Her eyes blazed with a sexual intensity I’d never before seen in a woman. She looked down at the lump in my jeans without even trying to hide it.
“Come in,” she said.
I stepped in and surveyed the scene. It was a standard $150-a-night room with a king bed and a flat screen TV. I didn’t see any luggage. It was so clean, it looked like the maid had left two minutes earlier. A picture window fogging at the corners overlooked the pool.
“Nice place ya got here,” I said.
“Thanks,” she said. “This is where we play sometimes. Have a seat.”
I didn’t just sit on the bed. I made myself comfortable by stretching out and putting my head on a pillow.
“Who is ‘we’?” I asked.
“Whether you learn the answer to that really depends,” she said.
“Depends on what?” I asked.
Sara walked to the window and closed the shades. The room went dark.
“On how far you’re willing to go,” she said.
Sara eased her body on top of mine. Her tongue pushed into my mouth. The girl knew how to kiss/ She moaned softly as our lips smacked against each other. Her pelvis rubbed against my cock. I had to fight to keep from cumming in my jeans.
But she wasn’t letting up.
Sara slid herself down my body until her face was even with the bulge she’d been eyeing so keenly a few minutes earlier. She unzipped my pants and pulled them down to my knees. Then she did the same with my polka dot boxers.
Her warm mouth enveloped my stiff cock. Sara took the whole thing inside of her on the first swoop. She pulled back slowly, dragging her tongue on my flesh. A second before her lips would’ve left the head, Sara forced herself to take the whole tamale back up inside her. I’d never had blow job quite like it. Sara knew all too well what I wanted.
I tried so hard to keep from cumming. I wanted the blow job to last. But Sara was too good. I couldn’t hold back. My sperm shot into that ho like 10 cannonballs. Sara held her head firmly in place and accepted every drop without swallowing.
When I finished, she crawled back up my body. Her lips drew close to mine.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
She put a finger over my lips and froze me with a passionate gaze. Sara removed her finger and quickly replaced it with her lips. Her tongue poked me, urging me to open my mouth. She wanted to return my cum back to my body.
I suddenly remembered Mike’s sly smile and him telling me about the rumors he’d heard. But I didn’t give a fuck. He wasn’t there. I didn’t mind being Sara’s cum dump. I wanted it.
The dam broke when I parted my lips. My own salty dick snot poured into my mouth. Sara cupped her mouth around mine. Our tongues played in the slime.
When Sara pulled back, I closed my mouth.
“Swallow,” she whispered.
I let the jizz slide down my throat.
“Very good,” she said. “You passed the first test.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked. “What do I get?”
Sara stood up and walked across the room to a desk. She turned on a lamp that threw a dim light on the room.
“You get to see my surprise,” she said.
I sat up.
Sara kicked off her high heels and then turned around to face the wall. She slipped her dress over her head. A lacy black bra strap squeezed her back. A black thong separated her butt cheeks. Sara left on the bra, while bending over to push the thong to the ground. When she stood up, Sara peeked over her shoulder with a smile.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
“Fuckin’ A,” I said.
I could barely believe my eyes. When Sara whipped around, a seven-inch boner was poking straight at me.
“What the fuck?” I asked.
I instinctively recoiled, pressing my back against the head board.
“I take it you’ve never sucked off a she-male before,” Sara said.
“Fuck no,” I said.
“That’s cool,” she said with a playful smile. “There’s a first time for everything, right?”
She walked over and sat on the bed next to me. My eyes wouldn’t come unglued from her prick. I was astounded that it was staying hard.
“Look,” Sara said, “why don’t you try it? You might like it.”
She put her hand on my naked thigh. I didn’t flinch.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Won’t I be a fag if I suck it?”
Sara chuckled.
“I don’t know,” she said, while rubbing my leg. “I don’t usually label people like that. The way I look at it, if it feels good, just do it. Besides, it’s just me and you here. No one else has to know anything.”
She made a convincing argument. And although I never would’ve admitted it at the time, the truth was I did want to try blowing a she-male. It seemed so kinky. I looked her over. Except for the cock, Sara was all woman. Her tits looked as real as anything I’d ever seen at the strip club.
I slid off the bed and stripped naked before dropping to my knees on the floor.
“Very good,” Sara said with a wicked grin. “You won’t be sorry.”
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She stood in front of me with her dick inches from my lips. I watched it pulse with her heartbeat.
“Go ahead,” Sara said. “Taste it.”
I wrapped my lips around the head and let my tongue touch the soft, pink flesh. She had a thick cock. My mouth strained to fin around it. Otherwise, I felt at ease with Sara’s prick inside me. I pushed my head forward . She moaned. I took about a third of her shaft inside me before pulling back. I took a little more on the second stroke and more yet on the third.
Sara totally dug my technique.
“Oh fuck,” she said. “You are sooo fuuuucking goooood.”
I looked up. She looked down. The sexual voltage couldn’t have been higher if sparks shot out of her eyes.
Without even thinking of it, I swallowed her whole prick. I could tell by her drooping eyelids that she was trying not to cum.
Just when I was about to really start bobbing my head, a knock came at the door. I jumped back.
“Who the fuck is that?” I asked.
“My friends,” Sara said. “Remember how I said I wouldn’t be here alone? They’re running late, but they finally made it.”
“Who are they?” I asked.
Sara smiled.
“Oh, you might call them my sisters, Amy and Rebecca,” she said.
I smiled back.
“Let them in,” I said.
When Sara opened the door, two brunettes walked in . Sara introduced the one with blonde streaks and a tight, red dress as Amy. The one in purple was Rebecca. She had curly hair down to her shoulders. Both had big tits and looked like they’d just walked out of a Penthouse shoot.
“Guess who I found to suck tonight,” Sara said.
The new girls looked at me as I kneeled on the floor. They shrieked.
“He was a she-male virgin until 10 minutes ago,” Sara said. “Get yourselves ready girls.”
Sara stuck her cock back in my mouth while Amy and Rebecca stripped naked. They spread out on the bed and started stroking themselves. Even naked, they were as feminine as Sara.
It didn’t take long for Sara to jizz in my mouth.
And that’s when I panicked about going all the way gay and searching about for a place to spit.
What better place, I thought, than Amy’s mouth. After all, Sara had done it to me.
I stood and walked over to Amy. She dug the vibe immediately, tilting back her head and opening her mouth. I let my face hover about six inches above hers and then allowed Sara’s cum to ooze onto Amy’s tongue. She did the same thing to Rebecca, who repeated the act with Sara.
Amy and Rebecca grabbed me by the wrists and guided me to a spot on the bed next to them. They laid me on my back. Each one leaned over to suck on my nipples, as Sara laid her body on top of me with her lips a few inches above mine.
I opened wide. Sara slowly dribbled the cum into my mouth. When the stream petered out, she gave me an unmistakable look. She was saying, “swallow.”
I couldn’t resist anymore. Her jizz slid down my throat. The point of no return had been passed, but I didn’t mind. It all seemed so natural.
“Welcome to the club, bitch,” Sara said.
Amy and Rebecca laughed.
“What club is that?” I asked.
“I don’t know Sara,” said. “Let’s call ourselves The Cum Drinkers.”
“Or how about the ass sluts?” Amy said.
She pointed at me.
“You!” Amy said. “Get on your hands and knees. I’m going to fuck your virgin hole.”
I got in the doggy-style position on the bed. Amy slid in behind me, while Sara sifted through a purse until she found a tube of KY Jelly. She handed it to Amy, who dabbed some on her fingers and shoved them up my bunghole. She worked me gently until I was relaxed and thoroughly lubed.
Amy spread open my butt cheeks and thrust herself inside me. I grunted.
“Virgin ass,” she said. “Nothing like it.”
“Fuck that he-cunt,” said Rebecca, who lay out on the bed in front of me.
Sara slid between Rebecca’s legs started sucking her.
Amy’s pumps started slow and shallow but quickly picked up speed and added depth. Her thrusts hurt at first, but my ass adjusted. Each pump caused less pain and eventually disappeared. Soon, all I felt was pure ecstasy.
Sara’s blow job was going well. Rebecca suddenly pushed her away and got on her knees. Rebecca aimed her prick at my face and stroked it twice. She must’ve shot a gallon of cum. When she finished, I could feel it streaming down my face and dripping off my chin. The juice spotted the bed sheet.
After that, it didn’t take long for Amy to jizz. She dug her nails into my hips and gave one last monster stroke before unloading in my behind.
Everyone had been satisfied. When Amy pulled out of my ass, I went to the bathroom and cleaned up. The girls were on the bed, naked and laughing, when I returned. I squeezed onto the bed with them. Sara wrapped an arm around me.
“So,” she said, “How do you feel? Do you think you’ve become gay?”
I stroked her long, blonde hair and smiled.
“Oh, I don’t put labels on people like that,” I said.
The room roared with laughter.
The End
Just a Blowjob
Hands travel fast up his pants to the zipper, pulling it down then open. One hand sneaking its way in while the other pulls the pants down and free, half taking his underwear with. With a snort his shorts go the path of the pants before both hands grab at him. One wraps around his soft member, the other cupping his hairy balls I think he makes a noise as my hands move. One going up and down on his hardening bit, the other rolling balls to and fro, feeling the hairs against my flesh gets me excited, but this is just a blowjob.
Mmmmm he is long enough now holding up his length in my hand I lean forward to take him into my mouth, but not yet. Instead I run my tongue around and around the head, feeling the soft flesh, tasting it on my tongue. I plant a kiss to it before pulling it higher to run my tongue down then up. Moving it about I repeat the process to get all of it moistened before guiding it toward my mouth again.
Not in yet, no not yet, I breath on it softly, feel it tremble as my hot breath falls on it, feel it shiver as the cool air draws the moisture I put there away. Now, now it is in my mouth, just the head at first, tongue running over and around, hand wrapped around again going up and down.
Head moving now, taking him deeper then backing away, I relish the feel of this hot piece of meat in my mouth, the taste adding fuel to the fire of my enjoyment. Fast then slow I move on him, he may be saying something now and then, though I can’t hear him. My ears are filled with the heated enjoyment of taking a cock in my mouth, though quick glances upwards above the delicious piece of meat, above the hair, above the skin can see him looking, smiling down at me with glazed over eyes.
Pulling off of him, I look up at him for a moment, smiling at his sad face before leaning in and kissing the end. I take just the head, my hand moving back and forth on him. The taste and feel of him on my tongue almost driving me to go down on him again, instead I stave off the urge, just tonguing at him while my hand moves up and down. My other hand holding, then rubbing on his balls, feeling the hairs, feeling the balls pressing into my hand then pulling up higher.
I smile up at him he is enjoying this, enjoying me. My head moves again, tongue pressing into the bottom of his flesh as I move. Kissing my hand as it moves upwards when I lean forward.
His hands move from my shoulders to my head, first running through my hair, sending tingles down my spine with the soft brushes over my scalp. Then his hands are pressing into my ears, fingers curling into my hair. My hand falls away as he starts to thrust. I moan as he moves, deeper and deeper, each fresh pump into my mouth eliciting more tingles.
At last, he is touching at my throat, at first just pressing then retreating, but soon pressing further and further. Swallowing to allow him access, he goes deeper, expanding my throat, making me moan more. I am sure he is saying something, can feel the reverberations of his words through his flesh. Feeling even more of the tasty fluid seeping into my mouth now, the salty sweet taste a delight, I know he is soon to be cumming.
His movements are speeding up, his hot cock shoving in and out of my mouth as fast as I can breathe, barely. I feel his meaty length swelling up, getting harder and hotter, driving deep then removing.
Getting my hand onto him just in time, he shoves hard, his cock trembling and pulsing in my mouth. I feel the hot fluid flooding my mouth, spreading out as more and more is first shoved then flows. Teeth swimming in a sea of the tangy hot juices, my tongue darting around and around his head, I pull back until just the end of him is still captured.
Feeling the hard meat cool down, then soften in my hand, I pull it free carefully so as to not lose any fluids. Smiling up at him, I swallow before standing up and reaching for the glass sitting nearby.
The End
Donovan’s Fetishes
Good For One Thing
“Men are only good for one thing,” I explained to June.
The pretty blonde crinkled her brow. “But I thought you were independently wealthy,” she said after a moment of thinking about it. “Why would you need a man for anything?”
And people wonder why women in their dirty thirties get such a kick out of seducing the young. “Come with me and you’ll see.”
June was intrigued and happy to tag along. After all, I was the one who introduced her to the joys of bondage and the special satisfactions of the all-female orgy. I had even taken her anal virginity with one of my long, elegant strap-ons. If I was involved, she knew there was something out of the ordinary going on.
Stan waited for me back at my condo, bound naked in the black velvet rope that looked so exciting against the pale white flesh of his geek’s body. I’d met him at the university, a happy hunting ground for kinksters of all stripes. June was more purely lesbian than most of the women her age I had slept with, and when we entered the toy room, she eyed his eight-inch erection with alarm. He was tied to the whipping bench, but instead of the usual face-down position he was face-up, so his obtrusive male equipment thrust what must have seemed to her like a mile into the air. The head was flushing a furious shade of maroon, and blue veins stood out in high relief on the shaft.
There was a padded leather stepstool next to the bench, one that June hadn’t seen before. She watched curiously as I removed my clothes and stepped onto it. I was cunt-high to Stan’s face, and he was staring hungrily at my pink plush curves. I keep myself shaved, of course, and I was well-oiled as well, so I knew the room lights were gleaming off my naked body.
“Is he going to eat you?” June asked. “I thought you said men weren’t very good at pussy-munching.”
“They’ll never be as good as women,” I said. “But they do make excellent toilets.” When I spoke the key word, Stan’s mouth stretched wide open, and I tilted the angle of my pelvis – just so. A hot gush of acrid yellow fluid came pouring from my bladder.
Stan drank it down shamelessly, not caring who watched him as he indulged himself in his favorite liqueur. It was rare to find a toilet slave as enthusiastic as this one. He didn’t care about my sexual orientation or my scorn of males. He didn’t even mind having to be tied up and paraded in front of my female lovers. All that mattered to him was the taste of my personal spray.
I squirted and squirted, squeezing my muscles to force out every drop, and Stan swallowed it all. June made little gasping sounds. I looked up at her and saw a line of spittle running from the corner of her mouth to her chin. She blushed and licked it off, but I knew what was going through her head. She was both deeply shocked and profoundly aroused at the sight of this male drinking from my bladder. When I was finished and glanced in her direction again, I saw that her pants and panties were around her knees and she was fumbling desperately with her clit.
As for Stan, he smacked his piss-wet lips against my cunt and then jerked violently within his bonds. As always, the mere taste of my squalid juice was enough to pull his trigger. Screaming between my thighs, he shot off into the air, sending his cream so high that it splatted against the ceiling. I looked up as it dripped down in blobs, staining his face and my thighs.
After gagging Stan with a black leather strap, I descended from the stool and turned away from the bench. He fought fiercely against the black velvet rope, but he only succeeded in pulling the knots tighter until he could barely move at all. June and I pretended he no longer existed as we spread out some black satin floor pillows and began to do the sixty-nine together. The look on my young lover’s face was priceless as she dabbled her fingers in the wetness along my thighs and then sucked them dry, thrilled at her own daring at having tasted for the first time the spilled juices of a male. We came several times each before we were sated, soaking our mouths and cheeks with each other’s pure essence of cunt.
As always after an extended sex session, June discovered that she had to pee. She got up out of habit and turned in the direction of the bathroom, but I pulled her back. “Why walk all the way down the all when we have a convenient toilet right here?”
June giggled. She looked not at his face but at his organ, which was already pointing to the spot on the ceiling again. “I didn’t know men could get stiff again that fast.”
“Piss drinkers get amazingly hard, amazingly fast,” I said. “It’s almost enough to make me go bisexual – almost.”
Stan smiled in anticipation around his gag when June approached him. She pulled off the strap, then jerked back a little when he stretched his mouth wide open. I believe she was shocked all over again by this display of his desire for female piss. Taking a deep breath, she mounted the stool and forced her pussy into place over his mouth.
For a moment, nothing came out. It’s difficult to overcome the old programming for a bit. Finally, though, she let out first a trickle and then a gush. Stan drank greedily, his Adam’s apple working up and down as he quenched his thirst on June’s sweetness. I enjoyed watching him drink almost as much as I had enjoyed pissing in him.
But I also understood the limits of the male physiology. While June was relieving herself, I got up and reached between the whipping bench and his ass. He wouldn’t blast off just from tasting piss this time – the first ejaculation had removed too much of the pressure. However, if I slipped my finger right into his asshole at precisely the same moment that he was swallowing the thickest of her flow … yes! Once again he was painting the ceiling, not to mention June’s lovely young nakedness.
When we finally untied him and allowed him to leave, June was shocked once again that he clumsily handed me $300 in appreciation for being used as a human toilet. “True, I don’t need the money”, I told her after he was gone. “But for some men, paying to be pissed on is all part of their humiliation fantasies.”
She nodded slowly as I pulled her down to the floor and began to lick Stan’s come off her beautiful skin.
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