I grew up on a dirt road that didn’t have a name, just a mailbox with our surname peeling off in the sun. Out there, love stories were simple. You met a boy at the rodeo or at the pub on a Friday night, you slow-danced to a country song, and by harvest you were someone’s forever. That’s what I believed, anyway. When I moved to the city at twenty-two, I packed that belief in my suitcase between my good boots and my grandmother’s pearl earrings. I thought love would find me quickly. I smiled at strangers. I said yes to dates. I mistook attention for intention. The first man I met wore polished shoes and told me my accent was “cute.” He took me to a rooftop bar where the lights blinked like distant stars. He spoke about investment portfolios and weekend trips. When he kissed me, it felt like a scene from a movie I’d watched a hundred times in my bedroom back home. I thought, this must be how it starts. It didn’t start. It ended the next morning with a polite text and a promise to “catch up sometime.” There were others. A bartender with kind eyes who said he’d never met someone “so genuine.” A gym trainer who liked the way I laughed. A musician who wrote half a song about my freckles. They held my hand in public, traced circles on my back in private, and whispered that they felt something different with me. I kept believing them. I told myself that intimacy meant progress. That if they wanted me, if they desired me, then surely love couldn’t be far behind. So I gave pieces of myself away in dim apartments and rumpled hotel sheets, under fairy lights and ceiling fans that hummed in the dark. I learned the rhythm of new bodies, the warmth of shared breath, the heavy quiet that comes afterward. But morning always arrived colder than I expected. I’d lie there staring at unfamiliar ceilings, wondering why closeness at midnight felt so far from connection at dawn. They would kiss my shoulder and rush off to meetings, to friends, to lives that didn’t seem to include me past the night before. Back home, my friends were getting engaged. Posting photos in fields of golden wheat, hands laced with someone steady and sure. I double-tapped their happiness and told myself I wasn’t jealous. I was just… waiting. People assumed I was wild. The city had changed me, they’d say with a wink. They didn’t see the hopeful girl underneath it all—the one who still believed that the next date might be the last first date. The one who studied every smile for sincerity. I wasn’t looking for thrill or conquest. I was looking for that quiet certainty my parents had, the kind that doesn’t need fireworks because it burns steady and bright. Instead, I kept finding sparks—hot, dazzling, and gone before I could warm my hands. Maybe I was naive. Maybe I confused chemistry with compatibility. Or maybe I just hadn’t learned yet that love can’t be negotiated through longing. But I still keep my grandmother’s pearls in my drawer. I still say yes to dates. And somewhere beneath the city lights and the lessons learned in tangled sheets, that country girl is still looking—not for another night, but for someone who stays when the sun comes up.

20 February 2026

3 Comments

8 Likes

The cabin smelled of damp wood and something darker—musky, primal, like the lingering scent of sweat and cum from the last time I’d been used. My body still ached in places I didn’t want to think about, my throat raw from choking on cock, my ass sore from being stretched open by fingers, tongues, and something much thicker. But when the summons came—a curt text with nothing but an address and a time—I didn’t hesitate. I never did. The door creaked shut behind me before I could even turn around. The older man’s voice, deep and rough like gravel under boots, cut through the silence. "Strip. Now." No greeting. No small talk. Just command. My fingers trembled as I peeled off my clothes, the cool air raising goosebumps across my skin. I heard the rustle of fabric, the soft thud of boots on wood—other presences, other men, their breathing already thick with anticipation. Four of them. Including him. A hand—his hand—gripped my chin, tilting my face up. His thumb pressed against my lower lip, forcing my mouth open just enough for his breath to ghost over my tongue. "You remember the rules?" His voice was a growl, the kind that made my stomach clench. I nodded, or tried to, but his grip tightened. "Say it." "I’m yours," I whispered. The words tasted like shame and want, bitter and sweet all at once. "Good." His fingers slid down my throat, over my collarbone, then lower, tracing the curve of my breast before pinching my nipple hard enough to make me gasp. "But tonight, you won’t see a thing." The blindfold was silk, smooth and suffocating as it wrapped around my eyes, blocking out the dim light of the cabin. My pulse spiked, my breath coming faster as the world narrowed to just sound and touch. The older man’s hands roamed my body, possessive, mapping me like territory he’d already claimed. Then—other hands. Rougher, less patient. Fingers dug into my hips, my thighs, spreading me open before I could even brace myself. "Such a pretty little slut," a new voice murmured, low and amused. A thumb circled my clit, slow and deliberate, while another hand—bigger, calloused—squeezed my ass cheek hard enough to bruise. "Already wet for us." I bit my lip to stifle a moan, but it escaped anyway, high and needy. The older man’s chuckle was dark, satisfied. "She loves it. Don’t you?" His palm cracked against my ass, the sting radiating through me, making me arch into the touch. "Answer me." "Yes," I hissed. "Yes, what?" Another slap, harder this time. My skin burned. "Yes, sir." The words fell out of me before I could stop them, my body already melting into submission. A finger—thick, unyielding—pressed against my entrance, not pushing in, just there, teasing. "Beg for it," the older man ordered. I should’ve resisted. I should’ve hated this. But the words spilled out, desperate. "Please. Fuck me. Please, sir, I need it—" The finger plunged inside me without warning, knuckle-deep, curling against my front wall. I cried out, my knees buckling, but strong arms held me up. "Such a greedy little hole," the voice—one of the others—murmured against my ear. His breath was hot, his cock already pressing against my hip, thick and leaking. "Think you can take all of us?" Before I could answer, the older man’s voice cut through the haze. "On your knees." Hands shoved me down, my bare knees hitting the rough wood floor. The blindfold made everything sharper—the scent of arousal, the heat of bodies surrounding me, the way my own heartbeat thundered in my ears. A cock brushed my lips, the tip already slick with pre-cum. I didn’t need to be told what to do. I opened, taking him in, my tongue swirling around the head before he pushed deeper, hitting the back of my throat. "Fuck, that’s it," the man groaned, his fingers tangling in my hair. "Take it all, slut." I gagged as he thrust deeper, my nose pressing against his pelvis, the taste of him salty and thick. Another cock nudged my cheek, then my temple, the older man’s voice a dark purr above me. "Suck him like you mean it. And don’t you dare stop until I say so." My jaw ached, tears pricking behind the blindfold as the first man fucked my throat in earnest, his hips snapping forward. I hollowed my cheeks, my hands gripping his thighs for balance, but then—another set of hands grabbed my wrists, yanking them behind my back. A belt, maybe, or a rope, cinched tight around them, binding me. I whimpered around the cock in my mouth, the sound vibrating against his shaft. "Look at her," the older man mused, his fingers tracing my spine. "Already dripping, already desperate. You like being our little fucktoy, don’t you?" I couldn’t answer, not with my mouth full, but my body did it for me—my hips rocking back, seeking friction, my pussy clenching around nothing. A hand—his hand—slid between my thighs, two fingers shoving inside me without warning. I choked on the cock in my mouth, my back arching. "So wet. So empty." His fingers scissored, stretching me, while his thumb pressed hard against my clit. "You want to be filled, don’t you? Stuffed full of cock until you can’t walk straight?" "Mmm—!" I tried to nod, but the man in my mouth groaned, his grip on my hair tightening. "Pathetic," the older man murmured, but there was no real disdain in his voice. Just dark, twisted approval. His fingers pulled out, and I whined at the loss, but then—something thicker, blunter, pressed against my entrance. A cock. Not his. Not yet. One of the others. "Please—" I begged, my voice ragged around the cock still fucking my throat. "Since you asked so nicely," the older man drawled. The cock at my pussy surged forward, stretching me wide, the burn delicious and brutal. I sobbed, my body torn between the two invasions, my throat and cunt both used at once. The man behind me gripped my hips, his thrusts hard and unrelenting, while the one in my mouth fucked my face like he owned it. "That’s it," the older man encouraged, his voice a dark caress. "Take it. Take all of it." The cabin filled with the sounds of flesh slapping flesh, my gagging, their groans. My body was a playground, a thing to be used, and I loved it. Hated myself for loving it, but my traitorous cunt clenched around the cock pounding into me, my tongue swirling around the one in my mouth like I was starving for it. Then—his cock. The older man’s. I knew it instantly, the heavy weight of his uncut length dragging against my skin before he pressed it against my lips. "Open," he commanded. I obeyed, my mouth already stuffed, but he didn’t care. He fed himself in alongside the other cock, both of them stretching my lips obscenely, filling my throat until I couldn’t breathe. Tears streamed down my face, my nose running, my body shaking with the effort of taking them both. "Fuck, look at her," one of the men groaned. "Such a good little whore." The older man’s hand fisted in my hair, yanking my head back just enough to let him see my face—my blindfolded, tear-streaked, cum-drenched face. "Mine," he growled, before shoving back in, his cock hitting the back of my throat. I came with a broken sob, my pussy clamping down around the cock fucking me, my body betraying me completely. The men didn’t stop. They couldn’t stop. The older man’s cock pulsed, thick and heavy on my tongue, and I knew—he was close. He was going to fill me, mark me, own me. "Gonna cum down that pretty throat," he rasped. "Gonna make you swallow every last drop, and then we’re going to start all over again." I moaned around him, my body already aching for more. Because this wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. Not with him. Not with them. And when his cum finally spilled down my throat, hot and thick, I drank it down like a good little slut—knowing this was only the beginning.

20 February 2026

0 Comments

3 Likes

I'd met her at my daughter in laws 21st birthday. I'd had a couple of drinks which my ex didn't approve of so she left early. At some point of the night I found myself sitting on the the back step beside this gorgeous 21 years old blonde. She was there with her boyfriend my sons mate and her son 3yrs old it had been a long time since I felt so comfortable with another woman talking and laughing about everything. That night passed without anything happening just a good night. We crossed paths a few times over a period of about 10 years and then out of the blue I got a friend request on fb which I accepted. I contacted her on messenger and during that first conversation she informed me that she had left her partner 2 weeks earlier. During the next two weeks we talked a lot and she remembered our conversations on the steps and informed me that talking to me that night had made made her extremely horny. By this time I had moved interstate but convinced her to meet me. I sent a air ticket and organised a hotel for the weekend and picked her up. She arrived dressed in high stilettos tight jeans and a t shirt that was sooo tight her nipples were very visible I got an erection immediately putting her arms around my neck she whispered I want that now. We headed to the hotel. No sooner were we in the room we were all over each other she pushed me into the lounge chair and knelt between my legs couldn't get my jeans off quickly enough. Mouth around my cock and deep down in her throat I haven't been that close to blowing my load so quickly I had to stop her we quickly got undressed and headed to the shower I was rock hard by the time standing behind her I soaped her up squeezing her breasts in both hands her head. Leaning backwards my hands tracing down to her shaven clit swollen as I massaged it slowly between my fingers turning her head our lips met passionately then the words every man is wanting to hear please please fuck me now please I eased her forward gripping her hips she bent over hanging on to the edge the shower I slowly entered her and she backed onto my cock right up to my scrotum she gasped as I started to fuck her and screamed out loud when she came I exploded shortly after knees trembling both of us. that weekend we fucked in every position imaginable slept like babies for 3 beautiful sexy days an experience I've never repeated. still talk from time to time never will forget her she was beautiful sexy awesome. Just so you understand I was at the time 34 yrs older than her

19 February 2026

0 Comments

22 Likes

I don't know what had come over me. I've done plenty of these and I've never known such an effect. I've always been able to concentrate. Get the drawing done. I'm not saying the other models weren't attractive. There was nothing wrong with them. I could draw them. I could render them into two dimensions with all my concentration intact. But this woman, I don't even know her name. It's Sarah or Georgie, or something like that. I'm not really sure. I forgot when she walked in, draped in silk, that cheeky innocent smile on her face, that mysterious look which promised so much more. Her name completely disappeared from my mind once she shrugged that robe off her shoulders and let it crumple to the floor. Oh my God, those curves, that skin. I was immediately intoxicated. I was supposed to be drawing her. I tried. Believe me, I tried. The pencil marks were sporadic at best. Her breasts I drew, and that place between her legs I was fixated on. For now her legs were together. Oh but I believe me I was looking, hoping for them to inch themselves apart. But it was that look in her eyes when she glanced in my direction. She saw right into me. Understood what she was doing to me, bringing me undone. I made another feeble attempt at drawing. It was no good, I was getting hard and all I could think was how good those lips would be to kiss. How good those breasts would be to hold, to rub How good those legs would be a spread. She saw me now, really saw me. She saw me squirm in my chair. She saw the hunger in my eyes. Trying not to rub myself but failing. The other artists seemed oblivious to my discomfort but she wasn't. She knew and I think she liked it. Pose-change-time was called and Georgie shifted her position, staring straight at me as she assumed a reclining pose. Just the tiniest flash as she adjusted herself so tiny that I wasn't sure if I really did see the glistening lips between her legs. I needed to be closer. I had to see her better, maybe even smell her sweet scent. I moved my chair towards her, gaining an angle that enabled me the perfect view. I was beginning to notice some of the other artists giving my sideways looks. I think my infatuation was gaining some notice. I was beyond caring at this point. All I could think of was her. Her, and what I would like to do with her, how I could make her feel. How she could make me feel. Some of the artists were beginning to finish off their drawings, gathering up their pencils and charcoal and were chatting in the corner, beginning to file out. I wasn't going anywhere. She was watching me. That look in her eyes. She had a hunger that matched mine. I couldn't help myself. I was rubbing my hard cock through my pants. Her eyes on me the whole time. The room was emptying out. There was only a few people left now. Sandy, the quiet one with the intense stare. She was still drawing, but she was also glancing in my direction occasionally, then back to the model. Sandy could see the mutual attraction that was going on and she didn't seem concerned by it. Dominic is still there too. He was concentrating and drawing and was oblivious. Sophia was the last one a strong independent artist with a very avant-garde style both in her work and in her dress sense. She was no longer drawing. She was just watching. The model's time was up, it was time for her to go. As she went to arise I got up first and took her robe uncrumpling it, shaking it out for her. It was my chance to get close. She stood before me, naked, her glorious body inviting me. "Well" she said to me, "do you really want me to put that back on?" She stared straight into my eyes, full of confidence knowing the power of her sexuality and the effect it was having on me. "No" I replied "what I really want is you, now, right here". She stepped forward her hand reaching down and taking hold of the bulge in my pants. I was completely lost at this point. Completely oblivious to the remaining artists. But they weren't oblivious. They were watching us. I took hold of her gorgeous ass pulling her in to me staring in her eyes and leaning in for my first kiss. She didn't even try and resist she wanted it as much as I did. I could see the desire in her eyes. Now her hand was snaking into my waistband, searching for the bulge that hid beneath. Wanting to free it from its constraints. I've never known a woman like this before, so wanton, so sexually powerful. I had lost all self control. All I knew was that I wanted her, wanted her pussy, wanted to taste it, worship it, be inside it and fill it with my seed. She had my cock out now. It was rock hard and straining for action. Then, without warning, she dropped to her knees, her eyes never leaving mine. Her tongue slid from her mouth slowly working its way from my balls, up the underside of my shaft sending shivers all through my spine. My knees were buckling. I collapsed onto the couch that she was reclining on not a minute before. She was still between my legs, my cock firmly in her grasp. She licked around the head of my cock then took it into her mouth, a helpless moan escaping my mouth. I look down at her to see she was still looking at me. I was mesmerised, my cock starting to disappear into her mouth once again. I looked around the room suddenly becoming aware of my surroundings. Sandy was still at her sketch pad. A look of concentration on her face as her hand moved quickly over the paper. Dominic was pulling out his own cock. He was already hard too. Watching us intently, a look of desire on his own face. Sophia was reclining in her chair. One hand fondling her breasts the other between her legs rubbing herself through her pants. I looked back at Georgie she was really getting to work now. No longer looking at me. Concentrating on my cock and taking as much of it as she could in her mouth and my God she could take a lot of it. I watched her take 3 inches then 4 inches then five then six then the whole 7 disappeared down her throat, her nose up against my pubic bone. Her eyes we're streaming tears as she started the gag. There was a big slurping sound as she came up for air. Saliva and drool stretching from her gasping mouth to the head of my cock before she dived back down for another taste. Taking the whole thing in one motion. I was out of control now. I took the back of her head forcing my cock down her throat again and again not being able to resist the irresistible allure of her beautiful mouth. There was only one thing that could draw me away from that wonderful mouth and that was that exquisite pussy. I needed to bury my cock deep inside it to feel its warmth to feel its juices all over me. I stood up, my blood rising to a peak. I pushed her over the couch. Her ass pointing in the air my glistening cock pointing at her glistening slit. She was ready for me. Reaching around with one hand she pulled her pussy lips aside inviting me in. I needed no invitation. With a thrust I was in. It was even better than I could have imagined. I slowly worked into my rhythm, slow and shallow at first. Just hinting at what was to come. Then, bit by bit my cock slid between her pussy lips a little bit further, a little bit deeper. Until I was all the way in, picking up the pace and pounding my cock deeper inside her, my pelvis slapping against her ass. Sophia was moaning now. Her pants crumpled around her ankles and knees in the air. Her fingers deep inside her own pussy and rubbing her clit. Dominic's hand was beating on his cock, keeping time with my thrust deep into Georgie's exquisite pussy. Sandy was still furiously drawing but she was looking somewhat dishevelled now, her top open exposing one firm perky little breast. I was on top of Georgie now, my cock driving deep inside her again and again and again. My hands reaching around holding onto her breasts. My teeth scraping lightly down her back. But she'd had enough now, she wanted to take control. She flung me onto the couch and climbed on top. sinking down on top of me smothering me with her breasts, with her body, with her sweet, delicious cunt now in command. As she rode me I could hear Sophia screaming out in pleasure coming again and again. Dominic was standing now. He's cocking his hand standing over top of us. His face contorted, he was about to cum too. So was I. I couldn't take it anymore. Georgie was riding me furiously, my cock ready to explode. Sophia screamed again in pleasure Dominic groaned, shooting hot streams of cum all over the couch beside us. I could hold back no longer. "Fuck I'm cumming" I yelled as Georgie screamed an announcement of her own climax. I shot wad after wad of my own hot cum deep inside her, her kitty convulsing in time with my spurts. Finally we collapsed, exhausted. Georgie's full body weight on me, my cock going soft inside her, our combined juices leaking from her, coating my crotch. Dominic had put himself away and zipped himself up. Grabbing his drawing equipment, was heading for the door. Sophia walked calmly over to us still naked below the waist. Running her fingers over my balls and cock and that exquisite pussy she then put them to her mouth tasting our sex on her fingers. She then calmly turned put her pants back on, took her things and left. Sandy just stood up. Straightened herself up tore several sheets from her drawing pad, walked over to us and lay them on top of our sweating bodies, before leaving us alone in the room.

17 February 2026

1 Comments

10 Likes

Quite a few years ago I was dating a woman with a very high sex drive. Late one night when I was driving her home, she leaned over unzipped my jeans pulled them down, with some assistance of course. She then started to go down on me, after a few minutes when I was stiff and pulsing, she took off her jeans and knickers and started to climb over to the drivers side of the car. All while I was still driving, Luckily it was an automatic but unfortunately before cruise control. We slid the seat back as far as we could but still being able to just reach the accelerator and brake. She then sat on top of me and guided me inside her. Bouncing up and down on top of me with me saying lean to the side a bit I can’t see where we are going. Needless to say, worried about having an accident (of the motor vehicle kind) or being stopped by the police we found a place to stop and finish what she started. I still can't believe what we did but assure you it is true. A night I’ll never forget nor do I want to.

16 February 2026

1 Comments

11 Likes

The idea of two strangers hooking up in the middle of fucking nowhere seems to be unrealistic and everything that you can only find in the movies, or some asshole typing away. Anyways. So, we have these two people. A woman, 30s, average build, but curves that any man would want to grip their hands onto. Long hair, black, fussy hair that reaches towards her lower back. Cup size of her tits, well, spoilers, but let's call her Jane. (Jane Doe) Now with the man, 40s, built like motherfucking brick house. Has facial hair, but it is trimmed nicely. Jeans, but losing. Enough for the ladies out there knowing what he's dealing with, without the need to whip it out. We'll call him John Doe. Why? because I'm fucking lazy. It's raining, like pissing, pouring the old man (not John) cumming in his sleep, at a level of raining. Jane is marching in her wet boots. She's lost. Her phone was flat, and for hell, the moonlight was going to help. She's getting annoyed and more annoyed. All she wants to do is have a quick meal. Maybe beef jerky or something like that, and sleep until the morning rises. Seems that might not happen. She's losing all hope until- "Hey, she hears, overtaking the heavy water drops. The voice is male and deep. When I say deep, I say DEEEEEEEPPPPPP. She shines her flashlight in the direction of the voice and sees a figure. The figure walks forward, and here comes John. He's all wrapped up, but enough to knock the rain. "Are you okay?" "I'm just a bit lost. Trying to find my way back towards my tent." "Good luck with that, Mrs. With this rain and the nightlight. You will be unable to find your way back until the sun has risen." John sighs, knowing what he is about to suggest. "Would you like to stay at my tent. Just for tonight. Promise I'm not one of those crazy serial killers that you find in horror movies." Jane doesn't think about it. She just wants to get out of the sky water. Jane takes John's offer. Now the tent itself is small, like you're surprised that now John's able to fit inside of it, but anyhow. Jane lies down at the far, far right side with a bed sheet over her. John enters. "You don't mind if I-" He touches the ends of his shirt, hinting at what he's asking. She nods. meaning "I don't mind." John takes off his shirt and showcases his hard rock abs. like a 10 pack. He lies at the far left. The two campers try to sleep, but one little issue, which is- The sheet that was over Jane. Does jackshit. She's freezing. Teeth banging into each other. She is COLD. And John can hear it. He turns around, and "I realizes that you're a bit cold. You don't mind if I give you some body heat. 'Go ahead," Jane replies to his question. John pushes towards her and wraps his arms around her. Nothing more, nothing less. Anything seems fine. Both of them try to go to sleep once again-but. Jane feels something. Something that touches her arse. rubbing against her behind. She wants to figure out what this feeling is. She moves her hand towards the THING and touches it. Realizing that his hard cock was the thing rubbing against her. And she's liking the feel of it. And she's only feeling the outline of it (because he still has his pants on). She rubs his shoulder lightly. Enough for him to wake up, as he did. John doesn't know what's going on. "Is everything alright?" "Oh, everything is fine. Just still feel a bit cold and wonder if you can help me to warm up- in other ways." She pulls down his pants and flops out his rock-hard, thick, 8-inch cock. Throbbing for a play and don't worry. It's going to be a play with. He's enjoying it. He's feeling her warm mouth sucking him. John thinks she's the god of male oral sex. She stops looking down and looks across at John, which makes him unable to hold on any longer. He pushes her off his dick and gets on his knees and kisses her. Long with passion. She jerks him off while his hands are holding her neck, while their lips meet. John moves to kissing the side of her neck, which makes Jane really get ready for a fuck. He takes her top off. Not normally, but rips it. She showed her breasts to him. His hand was squeezing him before moving down to the nipple and having a taste. Moving his tongue around with the odd light bite. His hands slide down her back, and he gets a hold of her legs. Getting ready to flip her onto her back. John goes even further down as he starts tasting her. Tasting her nice, wet, warm, pussy. Which is wetter than the rain outside? And he isn't being gentle. He's going to pull on tongue fucking. (The title of this should be call tongue fucking the way this is going). She doesn't hold back. Her moans are loud, and it's known that she's enjoying. That this random hook-up was the right choice as he touches her tits as he's tasting her clit. She can't take it any longer, "I need you inside of me". He pulls back and slides towards her back and slides his thick cock inside of her. The moment it was in. It feels good. He starts thrusting slowly. He doesn't want to cum too quickly. He's a man who takes his time. Looking into each other's eyes. Groaning and moaning together. It feels like this is the best cock she ever had and the best pussy he ever had. He builds up the speed of his cock, smashing her. fucking her hard. The sound of his balls echoes. "I-I'm going to cum' Jane announced. And she screams out her orgasm. She notices he is slowing down. "Don't stop. I want you to cum too, baby." And he doesn't, it picks up the speed and fucks her. More and more. He's about to cum. Building up, building it up until- he cums inside her and it was a big load. He rests on the top of her chest, and her hands touch his hair. Progressing on what just happened." Jane smiles and makes a little joke. "I think we're warmed up now."

11 February 2026

0 Comments

6 Likes

Walking down a long corridor in a motel, I felt a mixture of emotions – emotions of excitement and anxiety at the same time. I had been talking to a stranger on the Internet for weeks and that evening we decided to meet for an anonymous party… When I entered the room whose number he had sent me earlier via text message, I noticed a figure standing in the corner with his back turned towards me, he was tall and with broad shoulders, when he turned towards me he was staring with his bright blue eyes at me. Without a word, he came up to me and hugged me warmly and then kissed me, his hands started moving around my body, he felt my chest and buttocks, I felt his hard cock rubbing against me through his pants, I felt like I was going to have a good time… We quickly took off our clothes. I shamelessly spread my legs wide, and he slid onto the bed until his head was between my thighs. I felt his tongue first on my labia and then entering my pussy. It lasted maybe 20 minutes, during which the stranger passionately licked my pussy until he finally slid on top of me, putting his tongue in my mouth. I felt the taste of my pussy, which turned me on so much that my tongue almost went down his throat. Without stopping kissing, I felt his very hard cock slide into my pussy. How I loved this feeling! A warm cock buried inside me. He started fucking me rhythmically and when he did it very hard, our kisses stopped and each of us started to focus on the pleasures coming from our crotches. The stranger was fucking me very hard and my body was stiffening with excitement, I could tell that he was about to cum, so my thighs pressed against his buttocks to let him know that he had to finish inside me. Which he did after a while. I had a long and wonderful orgasm, I felt the warmth of the semen gushing in my pussy. For a while, even though we both came, he kept fucking me until he finally got off me and lay down next to me. I was lying next to the stranger, completely relaxed and satisfied, I could feel his semen flowing out of my vagina, but it didn’t bother me, it just reminded me that I had just had a cock inside me. – I want more – I said quietly, turning towards him. – I want to add you again. He looked at me and smiled before lying on me again and after a while he entered me again, and I secretly hoped that he would fill me with his sperm again…

10 February 2026

0 Comments

3 Likes

Vicki and I had just started swinging when one of my suppliers announced it would take thirty of their customers to Honolulu for a week. We went online searching for swingers in Honolulu and ended up with about twelve contacts wanting to play. Being new to this game, we were dismayed as the contacts disappeared as our departure came closer. In the end, we did meet one good-looking couple from the website, Mike and Carmen. We organised to meet in a bar at 9pm, and miraculously, they were there! We swapped tales of our experiences in the scene and all was going well, but there was nothing from them suggesting we get started so I told them we had to get up early in the morning to fly to the Big Island. Their immediate response was to say it's been nice meeting you, we'll let you go. I told them that I meant that we should be getting into the play party now, if it was going to happen. We were at a small round table with Carmen on my left, Vicki on my right and Mike opposite. Carmen told me she did not see me asking Vicki if she wanted to play. In response, I put my hand on Carmen's leg near the knee and gave a small squeeze. I said: “That's how Vicki showed me her approval”. The four of us went back to our hotel room where we stripped down, adjusted our condoms and went to work. Vicki was on top of Mike's cock and I had Carmen on her back with her left leg over my shoulder as I watched my cock slide in and out of Carmen's very wet pussy. At some point we swapped partners and now Vicki was on top of my cock, sliding up and down. I was not paying attention to Mike and Carmen at the time until I felt Carmen's tongue sliding up and down my cock as she licked Vicki's very wet pussy at the same time. The feeling was incredible and something that neither Vicki nor I had ever experienced before. I now wanted my cock back in Carmen and Vicki was ready for another round on Mike's cock. We kept this up until everybody had come and we said goodnight to Mike and Carmen. As we got ready for bed, Vicki was collecting her discarded clothes from around the room, but was unable to find her g-string. We looked everywhere for it before deciding that Carmen had taken it as a souvenir of the night. I liked the idea that Carmen had a peg-board above their bed where she kept the g-string trophies of all the pussy she had licked. I have just written this because a few days ago Vicki brought up the memory of Carmen's licking ability and the whole scene lit up vividly in my mind, even though it was twenty years ago.

9 February 2026

0 Comments

19 Likes

I’d parked in the backblocks a few streets from the venue, engine ticking as it cooled, the bass from the concert thudding faintly through the dark like a second heartbeat. The plan was simple: wait, nap, wake up when my phone rang. Dad duty. Chauffeur with street cred. That’s why I’d pulled on my most battered Ramones tee, holes soft as confession, just in case my kids’ friends clocked me and needed proof I wasn’t some beige suburban cliché. I must’ve drifted off, cheek pressed to the window, when the knock came. Not a cop’s rap. Not impatient. Just… curious. I cracked one eye open and saw her shape through the glass, the glow of a streetlight catching velvet black cotton stretched over a body that had lived a little. I rolled the window down and there she was—mid-forties, easy smile, hair that knew exactly how to fall. Her Velvet Underground shirt looked like it had stories of its own. “Sorry,” she said, not sounding sorry at all. “I thought you were dead.” “Only on the inside,” I said. “Waiting for kids.” She laughed. The real kind. “Same. Thought I was the only relic hiding out back here.” I stepped out of the car. We leaned against our respective doors, swapping war stories. Concerts we’d survived. Bands we’d loved before life got loud in other ways. She told me what she used to get up to at shows—how freedom felt when the lights went down and nobody knew your name. The air shifted as she talked, charged, like the moment before feedback screams through an amp. At some point we noticed how close we were standing. How the conversation had slowed, thickened. Her eyes flicked to my mouth when I spoke. Mine traced the curve of her hip without asking permission. “Do you want to sit?” she asked, nodding toward her SQ7, the ultimate in Mum accessories. “More comfortable than… whatever this is.” The back of it was warm, leather holding the day’s heat. We didn’t rush. That was the thing. Hands finding, unhurried. Mouths exploring like we were remembering something important rather than discovering something new. The kind of intimacy that comes when you know who you are and don’t need to pretend. Time blurred. Streetlight shadows moved across the windows. The world narrowed to breath and touch and the low hum of a city minding its own business. We gave each other exactly what we’d been missing, generous and greedy all at once, until the tension broke and left us laughing softly in the dark. Eventually, the bass fell silent. Reality called. We straightened shirts, exchanged a look that said this was enough—perfect because it didn’t need to be more. She squeezed my hand before I slipped out. “Nice tee,” she said. “You still got it.” “So do you,” I replied, watching stand and check herself for signs of mischief. He phone buzzed, she gave me a last cheeky look and transformed back into suburban mum, and drove off into the night. When my kids finally called, I was wide awake, smiling to myself, the echo of bass still in my chest—but now it wasn’t just the concert.

6 February 2026

0 Comments

5 Likes

It was supposed to be a quiet night. The restaurant had just closed, the lights dimmed low, and the scent of caramelized sugar and fresh herbs still lingered in the air. I was wiping down the counter when I noticed her sitting at the bar — long after everyone else had left. She smiled like she knew something I didn’t. “I heard the chef makes magic after hours,” she said, resting her chin in her hand. I poured her a glass of wine. Slow. Intentional. Our fingers brushed when I handed it to her. She didn’t pull away. We talked about nothing at first — travel, music, favorite desserts — but every word carried weight. Her eyes didn’t wander. They stayed locked on mine. Testing. Inviting. When I stepped closer to explain a dish, she didn’t move back. “You cook with this much focus all the time?” she asked softly. “Only when the heat is right.” The tension between us felt like a flame turned low but ready to rise. The air grew heavier, charged with unspoken curiosity. Her hand found my apron string, slowly, playfully tugging. “Show me,” she whispered. And that’s when I knew this wasn’t about the food anymore. The kitchen had never felt so alive.

5 February 2026

0 Comments

1 Like

My Dearest Unknown Lady, I come bearing a heavy heart and a sheepish grin, for it appears I have caused quite the stir with your unmentionables - something I sincerely regret. It was never my intention to pilfer any of your personal belongings; rather, this was all an unfortunate misunderstanding that has left me in a most uncomfortable position, to say the least. To begin with, upon discovering your panties nestled amongst my laundry, I must admit that a curious curiosity overcame me - something akin to what I imagine young boys feel when they first stumble upon a hidden treasure map. The softness of the fabric, the delicate scent of lavender wafting from its fibers - these were things I simply couldn't resist exploring further. Firstly, I took in a deep breath and savored the aroma emanating from the panties. It was an intoxicating blend of sweet perfume and the lingering traces of your very essence - a fragrance that stirred something deep within me and sent shivers down my spine. Next, as if possessed by some strange force, I found myself wrapping those silky garments around my erection, marveling at how perfectly they conformed to its shape. The warmth of the fabric against my most sensitive parts was a sensation unlike any other, one that both excited and soothed me in equal measure. From there, things took a rather more intimate turn as I began rubbing the panties along the length of my erection, reveling in the way they slid effortlessly back and forth, creating a tantalizing friction that brought me ever closer to the brink of ecstasy. The sensation was indescribable - like the world had stopped turning for just a moment, leaving only you, me, and those stolen panties locked in an eternal dance of passion and desire. And then, well, it happened - I reached my climax, releasing a torrent of lustful energy that saturated the very fabric of your undergarments. The warmth of my seed mingled with the coolness of the silk, creating a heady cocktail that I simply couldn't resist partaking in once more. Finally, as I came down from my euphoric high, I found myself using those soiled panties to clean up after myself - wiping away every last drop of my illicit desires and restoring them to a semblance of their former purity. And now, here they are, returned to you just as they were when they first caught my attention - stained with the evidence of our forbidden encounter. I hope that this note serves as an adequate explanation for my actions, and perhaps even offers some small measure of solace for any distress or discomfort I may have caused you. It was never my intention to invade your privacy or make you feel uncomfortable - it was simply the reckless impulse of a man who let his desires get the better of him. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I need a cold glass of bourbon and a quiet corner to ponder the folly of us old men. Yours sincerely, An Utterly Mortified Grizzly Old Man

4 February 2026

0 Comments

2 Likes

I had lived rather a sheltered life, controlled by a dominating father using religion as a rod! Married early and young cause that’s what you do! No sex before marriage allowed! 7 years that lasted and we parted amicably sharing 3 beautiful children. It was time for me to explore those desires l had smothered. A late bloomer in my thirties! I don’t recall which adult site it was! But l do recall the smoothness of her figure and our free flowing conversation! “Why dont you come and see me” she exclaimed! It was my kid free weekend and l thought what the heck why not! I started the trusty work van and this country boy from central Victoria at the time hit the road travelling to the outskirts of Mildura! It was a long drive! Some 4 hours plus! The sun was still rising as l hit the road, l enjoyed exploring new areas, time to think, ponder, what may be, what am l actually doing? The uncertainty of the unknown thrilled me, as l pushed the pedal to the metal in a feeble attempt to arrive that little bit quicker I was under strict instruction to ring her when l approached town and she would give me her address What if she didn’t answer, what if it was a hoax I hesitantly dialled and true to her word she answered and in no time l was approaching her country get away down her long dusty and winding driveway! To say l was a ball of excitement and nervous energy would be an understatement! Never had l done anything like this I could be catfished or anything! As l pulled up, she approached me from her humble abode, there was an audible sigh of relief, she looked just like her pics, tanned, slim with slightly curly and flowing brunette locks! Jeans the hugged her athletic legs and a lacy black top on! An Amazonian princess hiding in North West Victoria! I’m sure l nervously exclaimed hello! Wondering what her first impressions of me might be! I was rather dorky at the time! Still probably am but fit from my work and also tanned! At 6ft 1 l towered over her petite frame and l waited for her response Her simple and direct reply left me no doubt! “l knew l would want to fuck you the minute l saw you!” She blurted out. My god do women like this really exist, this was new ground for me, as l subconsciously pinched myself, but l was ready, eager, and already putty in her hands She invited me inside We made small talk about my trip She offered me a bourbon which l politely declined but she fumbled in the fridge to find me a much appreciated beer! Was a bit early to drink! Approaching midday but oh how did the one drink just settled my persona Then with no further ado She beckoned follow me! Gesturing with her finger Slipping her top off as she walked through the house I followed like an eager puppy admiring her physique from behind The shower turned on, great pressure l remember thinking! Funny how in the heat of the moment, work thoughts entered my head! The perils of being a Plumber The shower was one of those old types Claw foot bath with the curtain wrapped around, it would be a tight Squeeze But lm sure we would make room She was now naked and just hoped in! I really thought l was in a dream I had literally dreamt of moments like this I paused Is this really happening? It really is I quickly followed Undressing fumbling, l almost tripped out of my pants! Good start that would be! If l cracked my head open on the cast iron bath! I regained my composure And had to lift my underpants off over my already erected manhood! The blood was pumping, l was as hard as l have ever been my erection even surprised myself, l could literally feel my cock throbbing with anticipation Naked, exposed, open, nervous, vulnerable but ready I entered beside her She was adjusting the taps as l nudged behind her My hands ventured to her firm buttocks as l massaged both cheeks She quickly turned and looked up Our eyes connected under the gushing water as we kissed passionately and lustfully! I caught my breath and looked down at her firm tight breasts! It was a perfect handful for my large hands As l fondled her playing with her erect dark nipples! Boob size never bothered me! I am a nipple man The more erect the more excited l am! And God was l excited my what l saw and felt I only played for a while when she broke away and not quite dropped to her knees! The rest is a blur! But this l recall She took my large cock hard and deep Her lips wrapped around my shaft, and she sucked with the enthusiasm of a child on a icy pole on a hot summers day I held her head as if to guide her on the depth! But she needed no guidance, she was an expert l was the apprentice and I had never received a head job like this before As the warm water gushed over our nakedness! Still l didn’t cum! I needed friction She stopped We dried each other And continued to her bedroom! Needless to say We fucked for hours! And fucking it was Not making love This was lustful, carnal, fleshly and erotic Pheromones filled the air As we explored the depths of each others bodies Her pussy was divine, pink lips invited me, and a nice landing strip of pubic hair as if to point me to her pleasure zone! I performed oral on her engorged clit! And tasted her insides Her wetness surprised me! And her groans of satisfaction only complemented my limited experience We both had multiple orgasms, would rest for a while then go again! After hours of sex, different positions and exploration it was time for me to leave! Funny thing is we actually didn’t talk that much To this day l don’t know much about her ! And likewise I left with a brief goodbye We both knew we would not see each other again But we got want we needed and wanted It was indeed an awakening Two souls united in sex and lust Consensual and open Surely one of the greatest gifts two humans can share! And every now and again I remember my road trip And a wry smile appears on my face! And l wonder Does she recall?

1 February 2026

0 Comments

32 Likes

Sitting at the pub waiting for my meal I looked over at the next table across and there she sat looking at her phone maybe 70 or 75 hard to tell but hot and I mean a hot that's hard to describe but here goes from what I could see of her face whatever she was reading on her phone gave her a mischievous grin which lit up her face. Her white top was straining to hold back D or possibly DD breasts the pink clearly visible under the white top had to wonder if the panties matched. So I lent back slightly in my chair to see what I could see under the table unfortunately for me the quick glimpse of yep pink panties was soon ended as she looked over the top of her phone and busted me badly and her legs closed abruptly with nothing lose I made eye contact and gave a pout of disappointment. Much to my surprise she looked down my eyes followed Her's and to my surprise she had her legs spread as far apart as the little black skirt she wore would allow what she did next would of made me choke on my food if I had her hand came down under the table and pulled her panties to the side giving me a glimpse of a perfectly shaven pussy and I gotta admit it made me lick my lips. She slid two of her fingers over her clit and gently rubbed herself under the table which just made me reach under my table and give my now hard cock a squeeze the grin on her face told the whole story of being busted looking and now being teased badly. The last thing I wanted right now was my meal buzzer going but yep it did as I stood, she looked directly at my crotch, and her finger started to rub small circles around her clit I couldn't move even though that dam buzzer was going off in my hand. I reluctantly turned to the counter to collect my meal as I turned to return to my table there she stood directly in my path and simply asked if I liked the color pink my choked response was yes and everything the pink covered her laugh brought a sheepish grin to my face as she side stepped me to place her order

30 January 2026

0 Comments

8 Likes

The lights were low enough to make every shadow feel like a dare. I backed her against the wall, close enough that the air between us seemed to sizzle, but careful not to touch—yet. The space itself was alive, charged with anticipation, every second stretching longer than the one before. My hand rose slowly, deliberately, hovering just short of her skin, teasing, testing, daring her to react. “Say stop,” I whispered, letting the words hang in the space between us. But she didn’t. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t pull away. Her pulse betrayed her, quickening with every heartbeat, and I smiled at that—the quiet confession of desire she hadn’t said aloud. I leaned closer, mouth brushing near enough to steal her breath without taking it, letting the tension build until it became almost unbearable. When my fingers finally slid to her waist, firm and deliberate, the air between us seemed to ignite. The tension snapped like lightning—soft, sharp, perfect—and for a moment, the world ceased to exist beyond the warmth of that instant. Some experiences are understood without words. They pause… they linger. They stay with you, echoing long after the moment has passed, leaving you craving just a taste more.

28 January 2026

0 Comments

4 Likes

Mara The first picture shouldn’t have been a big deal. It was just me in my bathroom, hair still damp from the shower, my robe hanging open enough to show a triangle of lace and the top curve of my chest. Not nude. Not even that daring. But the fact that my thumb hovered over send for a full ten seconds made my pulse thud like it had somewhere to be. Graham’s name sat at the top of the screen. His last message — from two hours ago — was still there. Made it back to the hotel. You alive over there, trouble? Trouble. He’d said it with a smile earlier too, as we’d stood in the lobby bar of the conference hotel pretending we were just two strangers chatting politely. He was older — not in a way that made him feel distant, but in a way that made him feel settled. Salt-and-pepper at his temples. Calm eyes. Hands that didn’t fidget when he spoke. He’d asked about my job like it mattered. He’d listened like it mattered more. And when I’d teased him about being “too composed,” he’d leaned in just enough to make my breath catch and said, softly, “Composed is different than controlled.” It had been hours and I could still feel the warmth of that sentence. I looked at myself in the mirror again. The lace was black. My skin looked flushed. My mouth looked like I’d been thinking about being kissed. Maybe I had. I hit send. The bubble whooshed away. Delivered. Then the little indicator: Seen. My stomach dipped so hard it felt like missing a stair. And then his reply came. You’re going to ruin my sleep. I bit my lip, smiling before I could stop myself. Is that a complaint? I typed. Three dots appeared, vanished, appeared again — the visual equivalent of someone taking a slow breath. Not a complaint. But if you’re going to distract me, you should do it properly. The words were calm. Measured. Like him. And they lit a match behind my ribs. I walked back into my bedroom, dimmed the lamp until the room looked like honey, and held my phone up again. If properly meant “more,” I could do more. I slid the robe off one shoulder. Took another photo — this one with my face half in shadow, eyes looking straight into the camera, the lace more obvious, the robe more absent. I sent it before I could talk myself out of it. This time he didn’t answer immediately. The delay made it worse. I imagined him in his room: tie loosened, sleeves rolled, glasses off, that composed mouth tightening at the corners as he looked at what I’d given him. I imagined him deciding whether to be careful with me… or not. Finally: Better. Now tell me the truth. Are you doing this because it’s fun… or because you want me to tell you what to do? My cheeks went hot. It was ridiculous — two adults, separated by hallways and floors, playing with words like they were fingers. But the question landed like it knew something about me I hadn’t said out loud. I stared at the screen. Then typed: I want you to tell me what to do. Graham Her confession hit me lower than it had any right to. I’d been sitting at the little desk by the window with an expense report open, pretending I had discipline. Then her first photo arrived and discipline became a memory. Mara wasn’t just pretty — she was alive. All sharp curiosity and soft edges. She wore confidence like a dare, but there was something under it that felt like trust if you handled it right. And if you handled it wrong, it would feel like theft. So I didn’t rush. I read her words again: I want you to tell me what to do. My thumb hovered. The temptation was to go straight for the filth. To see how far she’d go if I tugged on the right thread. But I’d learned, with time, that what really undid a person wasn’t crude language. It was being seen. I typed slowly. Then we do it on your terms. You can stop whenever you want. Say “red,” and I stop immediately. Understood? Her reply came fast. Understood. Good girl—no. Not yet. Not until she chose it. I looked at her second photo again. The shadows. The deliberate gaze. The open robe like an invitation she was trying to pretend wasn’t one. I let myself enjoy it for a moment. Then: Stand in front of the mirror. Turn the light down like you did for that photo. And take a picture that shows me what you look like when you’re trying to be brave. There. A challenge without a command. A doorway without a shove. The dots appeared instantly. Then: You’re dangerous. I smiled to myself, because she was the one about to be in trouble. Mara My hands were shaking, which made me laugh quietly because… seriously? I was in my own room. Alone. Safe. And yet I felt like I was about to step onstage. I turned the lamp down even more. My bedroom became a soft blur of gold and shadow. I stood in front of the mirror, robe open, lace catching the light. “What does brave look like?” I murmured to myself. Brave looked like my shoulders back. Brave looked like my chin lifted. Brave looked like choosing to be watched. I took the picture — full-length, mirror shot, the robe falling open enough to show lace and skin, my thighs bare, my expression steady even as my stomach flipped. Then, because I was apparently a lunatic, I took another: closer, angled, my mouth parted like I’d been interrupted mid-breath. I sent both. I waited. My body hummed with anticipation like a phone on vibrate. Seen. Then: There you are. Three words, and I swore my knees went soft. Another message followed: You’re not just brave. You’re beautiful. Now… do you want to keep teasing me, or do you want me to make you ache? I swallowed. The way he wrote — calm, confident, like he didn’t have to raise his voice to take control — made heat coil low in my belly. Make me ache, I typed, and my thumb hovered, then added: please. This time he waited long enough to make my breath stutter. Then: Good. Take the robe off. Keep the lace. And send me a photo that you would never let a stranger have. My entire body flushed at the word stranger, because that was exactly what we were. We’d talked for two nights in a hotel bar, exchanged numbers like it was casual, and now I was standing in my room with my robe in my hands feeling like I’d been waiting for this for years. I let the robe slip to the floor. The lace felt suddenly like a confession. I took the photo from the side, my silhouette in the mirror: the curve of my hip, the slope of my waist, the straps against my skin. It was intimate without being vulgar — the kind of image that made my heart race because it felt like something private had become shared. I sent it. The seen came instantly. No reply. No reply. And then—finally: That’s not for strangers, he wrote. That’s for me. I pressed my fingers against my mouth to keep from making a sound. Then he sent another message: Touch yourself. Not for the camera — for you. Tell me what you’re thinking while you do. My breath caught. I sat on the edge of my bed, phone in my hand, the room quiet except for the rain tapping the window. I could feel my heartbeat everywhere. I typed: I’m thinking about you watching. About you telling me I’m yours for this. About how I’d behave if you were here. My face burned after I hit send. And then his reply arrived like a hand at the small of my back. That’s it. Slow. Let it build. And if you want to send me one more… make it something I’ll replay in my head tomorrow. I lifted the phone again, hands unsteady, and took a short video — not explicit, but suggestive: the lace, my breathing, the way my body moved as if guided by something I couldn’t resist. My face turned away at the last second, like I was trying not to reveal how much I wanted it. I sent it. And then I put the phone down and let myself fall into the feeling. No rushing. No performance. Just the heat, the tension, the quiet pleasure of being guided by his words while alone, the way desire could fill a room without anyone else in it. My breathing turned ragged. My thoughts went soft and messy, all Graham’s voice in my head — composed, controlled, urging. When my phone buzzed, I snatched it up like it was oxygen. Graham Her video made me inhale through my teeth. Not because it showed everything — it didn’t. It didn’t have to. It showed enough: the lace, the movement, her breath. The undeniable fact that she was doing exactly what I’d told her, in her own room, because she wanted to. That was the part that got me. I’d been careful in my phrasing, careful in my pace, but there was no pretending I wasn’t affected. My control was a suit I wore well, but it was still just clothing. Underneath it, my body reacted like any man’s. I typed back: You’re being very good for me. Then I paused. Considered. Added: Tell me when you’re close. I want to know. The dots appeared almost immediately. I’m close, she wrote. I can’t… I can’t stay quiet. I stood up from the desk and moved toward the window, looking out at the lights smeared by rain. My room felt suddenly too small for the amount of want in it. I wrote: Then don’t. Let yourself. And when it happens, I want you to tell me exactly one honest thing: what you wished I’d done to you. A few seconds passed. Then: Okay. And then silence. The silence was the loudest part — the stretch where I knew she was on the edge, where my own restraint frayed. I let myself follow her there, guided by the images she’d sent and the way she’d written please like it was a gift. When my phone finally buzzed, I looked down so fast I nearly dropped it. Mara My hands were trembling when I picked up the phone. My whole body felt boneless, warm, wrung-out in the best way. I stared at the screen for a second, blinking like I’d just woken up. Then I typed, because he’d asked. Because I wanted him to know. I couldn’t hold it back. I just— I finished. Even writing it made my face flush again, like the moment was still happening. And then I added the one honest thing: I wished you’d had me up against the window. Like you owned the view. I hit send and exhaled shakily, half-laughing into my pillow. The reply came so quickly it felt like he’d been waiting with his finger poised. Graham Her message made my chest go tight. Not because it was crude — it wasn’t. It was intimate. It carried the image of her against the glass, rain outside, my hand steady at her hip, her mouth open with a sound she couldn’t keep in. And it pushed me the last few inches. I typed back with a steadiness I didn’t entirely feel: Good. I’m glad you let yourself. Then, because she deserved honesty too: You’re not the only one. I did too. I stared at that sentence for a long moment before I sent it. It felt like a confession — not shameful, just real. A bridge between two rooms. I hit send. Then I added: Sleep now, Mara. Tomorrow we go back to being polite strangers in the lobby. But tonight… you were mine, and you knew it. Mara I read it twice. Three times. My body softened all over again, the afterglow turning into something sweeter, heavier. I didn’t know if we’d ever do this again. I didn’t know if it was a one-night heat-haze that would evaporate with daylight. But I knew one thing: He had made me feel chosen. I typed back: Goodnight, Graham. I did know it. And then I turned my phone face down, hugged the pillow to my chest, and let sleep take me with the rain still tapping at the window like applause.

28 January 2026

0 Comments

2 Likes

Sometimes you see something that is truly lovely to look at. I was lucky enough to experience one such vision as I took a shortcut through the back streets of Sydney’s upper North Shore. It was brief, very brief, as I had to concentrate on driving but there, running or it might have been jogging, was this young woman, late teens or early twenties, dressed in a light cheese cloth type textured top and shorts tracing out her delightfully cute little arse. This young woman was small, about 5’2” or 5’3”of slight build – not skinny but not voluptuous, probably classed as fit but with good sized breasts, between large oranges and a small grapefruit. What made this vision so pleasant was that, as she ran, her tits jiggled or wobbled about in her filmy, light material top, seemingly uncontrolled and unrestrained by a bra. She made it even better by slyly looking down checking out how her tits were wobbling as she ran. In my humble opinion, that is the sign of a relative innocent, inexperienced woman. More experienced worldly women never check out their tits in public, they have already checked out the bounce and how they look at home in front of a mirror but this young woman was looking at hers as she ran and was probably thinking “hey, they’re alright!’ or perhaps “hmmm, do they look alright?” and her’s was a concerned look and so perhaps the later. Now this all happened in a brief second or two as I drove past in the other direction and was made even more difficult to view by the cars that were parked beside the road and very close together, obstructing my vision, as this was near the local shopping centre and railway station. It was all over in an instant and I continued on about my business, arriving home some time later. As is my custom when I see such a sight, I sat down and had a mighty wank as I remembered her tits wobbling around and how much I would have liked to fondle them for her, savouring the softness of them as I squeezed them like little beans bags of fun. I wasn’t sure whether I would have liked them naked or still wrapped in their cheesecloth top, I went for the cheesecloth and blew my load accordingly, straining with ear popping satisfaction. It was one of those orgasms that make you feel like your gonads are going to appear in your throat. I then got on with the rest of my day. The following day I awoke to the dawn glow but it was too early to get up, so still lying down nice and warm in bed with my eyes closed, I took hold of a handful of my flaccid tool and balls and played with myself until my erection appeared and took over my hand’s full attention causing my balls to loose out. All of this fondling was to the vision in my mind of this young woman and her tits wobbling delightfully as she danced down the street. Ooooh, definitely cold shower material except I didn’t want to loose my erection to cold water anyway and so I continued enjoying myself. I had hit my left hand with a hammer as I tried to cold chisel the head off a stubborn screw the previous day and it hurt like hell when I tried to use it. Despite it hurting I still played with myself but my right hand had to do most of the work. I am right handed but I like to change it around and use my left as the old saying goes “use your left hand! It feels like someone else is playing with you”. It’s amazing what pain the adult male will endure to feel his tool hardening up. The whole episode of this young woman’s wobbling tits reminded me of a similar one some years ago now, actually about eight or nine years ago, now that I think about it. I had just retired and settled into the relatively quiet retired activity of working on the maintenance of the house and garden. There I was one day watering my garden when a young woman jogged past on the other side of the street. It was one of those moments that make you realise that being retired isn’t all that bad. She had a nice body and was (as I found out later) in her early twenties. Trying not to be too obvious I watched her sneakily out of the corner of my eye and then continued on with the gardening, making a mental note of the time and resolving in my lecherous, dirty old man way to be there tomorrow morning to see if she jogged past again. The following morning I got comfortable and sat with my cup of tea watching from the front window of the house, through the lace curtains to mask my perving activities. Sure enough she ran past again roughly about the same time. She had a nice body and looked fit with good sized tits for her slender frame and very similar to the vision I had experienced just a few day ago. Her jogging went on fairly regularly over the next few weeks and on my spare days I tried to vary my activities, sometimes perving through the front curtains and sometimes actually standing holding the garden hose or digging in the front garden. She usually ran down the other side of the street but on a few occasions she ran past my front fence. I didn’t try to hide my looking at her as she did so and nodded politely. Sometimes she would be wearing a sports bra I think it is called and would have her tits strapped flat onto her chest (I don’t see what’s sporting about that) much to my disappointment but occasionally she would have her tits wobbling around with probably not even a normal bra on. On the occasions of her tits wobbling around I tried to pretend subtlety and sort of look over the top of my glasses at her tits and her body in general. I wanted her to know that I was looking at her in a sexual perverty sort of way. One morning she jogged to a standstill right in front of me and my garden fence and said “hello Mr Johnson (not my real name)”. She knew my name?! I think my mouth must have dropped open as I was taken aback as they say. She definitely had me at a disadvantage. She continued “do you remember me? I’m Michaela Smith (you guessed it, Smith was not her real name and I am not even positive about the spelling of the first name). I knew her parents from ten or fifteen years ago and so this was little Michaela all grown up and in all the right ways. She also had very sexy eyes and they sort of flashed as she looked me straight in the eyes in a very horny way. Young women (in particular) know that old men are lecherous and like looking at their bodies at anytime of the day. Some look away as their mothers probably taught them but others who are well in control of their surroundings look at you with “come hither and root me” eyes that flash at you seductively. Anyway this one knew she was well in control of her surrounding and it was really very much erection material for me and my undies were probably well lubricated (shale we say swimming in) with pre-cum. We chatted about things in general and she told me that her mother now lived in Melbourne and her father still lived down the road from me where she had grown up and where the family originally lived until the divorce. Michaela now spent most of her time living in Melbourne close to her mother but occasionally stayed with her dad for extended periods of which this was one. There was a bit of a silence and so she bid me farewell with a “well, I had better keep going” and continued on her run. I watched her, perving at her arse until it disappeared around the corner out of sight. She turned and gave a little wave as she turned the corner and caught me still looking. Being a woman she would have known I was perving at her and her arse in particular. It’s so much more horny to perve at an arse when you have been talking to its gorgeous owner mere seconds before. Wild images of rubbing my tool up between those lovely young buns flashed through my dirty old man’s mind until I calmed down and got on with whatever I was doing. Over the next few weeks I saw her occasionally and one of those times she once again stopped on the other side of my front fence hedge. We exchanged the usual pleasantries and I asked after her parents. She didn’t talk much about them and so I let sleeping dogs lie and struggled desperately for a different subject. She rescued the situation and changed the subject to my garden and the flowers in particular. She pointed out one or two that she really liked and I explained that I had grown a few of them from cuttings and had a few just starting to flower in the greenhouse if she wanted one. She said that she had an appointment soon after her run that day so I suggested that she drop in tomorrow on her way home from her run so that she wouldn’t have to carry the plant with her on the run which made sense. She seemed delighted with that idea and she continued on her way and yes I did perve at her arse as she left. This day was one of her sports bra days and I was hoping tomorrow would be a “tits swinging free” day. I wasn’t disappointed. The next day rolled around and I heard a knock at the door and there she was hot and sweaty after her run, standing at the front door with that “well here I am” look on her face that some women get when they know they have control of the situation and the pathetic guy standing in front of them. This woman has eyes and a look that only a few women have when they are actively flirting or are interested in you. The look makes me want to pull her down then and there and have my old guy way with her as she observes, (with a bemused look on her face,) the pathetic male who due to his animalistic behaviour inherited from his cave man ancestors slobbers and writhes all over her naked body. I have noticed before that women like to watch me with that same bemused look (that says somewhat sarcastically “don’t mind me, just help yourself”) as I busy myself exploring, fondling, licking and sucking on all and sundry like a kid with some many toys and not knowing where to start. In this instance I managed to control myself but I was tingling with sex. We adjourned to the greenhouse and I think she was impressed with the plants. Despite looking as much as I could in her in the face I couldn’t help but look at her tits especially as the green house was hot and if she wasn’t already sweating due to her running then the greenhouse was certainly making her shirt top stick to her tits. She commented on the heat in the green house and pulled the material of her top forward off her sweaty tits to cool herself off but it fell back immediately and clung to them once again. I could see the different colours of her areolas as I brazenly looked at her tits like the pathetic male I am. She caught me doing it once or twice (I lingered intentionally long) before my gaze shifted quickly back up to her face. She pulled her singlet top up a millimetre or two in an half hearted token effort to conceal her tits from my gaze. We both had a bemused look on our faces as we could both see the futility of her actions as I glanced once more down at her rack. She apologized with something like “oh I’m sorry Mr Johnson. I am sorry if I am embarrassing you but I don’t wear a bra when I jog past a fellow down the street who is a pervert (there’s another one besides me in this street!?) as I like to give him a cheap thrill.” That was a chance I wasn’t going to let go as she was obviously flirting. I told her not to worry as I don’t mind looking at a good looking woman’s breasts anytime. I think I got the “oh, Mr Johnson!” exclamation at that point or whatever it was, it was false embarrassment on her part as she knew full well the effect her tits were having on me and my penis. She had moved really close to me in an effort to inspect the plant I had promised her. Her tits were so close and one of them couldn’t have been more than an inch away from my arm. She pushed closer supposedly to see the plant and her tit squashed into my arm. It wasn’t a slight brush of my arm but rather she pushed into me as if it wasn’t her tit at all but just any part of her body and that we were old friends that brushed up against each other on a regular basis. It was so delightful and I could feel the sweaty heat of her soft breast on my skin which made it even more so. I don’t specifically know what happens to penises at times like that but seemingly there must be litres (probably not quite that much considering your average penis, unless you are a horse or a donkey or me that is) of blood being pumped into them and they must also be trying to desperately to burst though the front of the guys’ pants in order to get at the woman. I know, as all guys do, that uncomfortable feeling when your gear is trying to straighten itself out from its coiled state down in the darkness of your hot, sweaty, wet undies and you would dearly like to reach down the front of your pants to rearrange everything but can’t as it is not socially acceptable. I looked down at her cleavage as she stood beside me feigning interest in the plant and I pushed back against her tit. She looked up into my face from down at her 5’2” height, with a devilish smile on her face that said “look, I know you want to put your hand on my boob”, took my hand and placed it on her deliciously rounded tit. My hand instinctively closed around her lovely breast in ecstasy that nearly made me pass out. I am an old guy don’t forget and there is my blood pressure to consider as well. Her tit was warm and soft and and and ….well, you know….words fail me. It formed beautifully, plump and round in her sweat soaked top. Every time I released my hand from her magnificent orb it returned to its magnificent original shape with a wobble before my next onslaught. Nothing was said, there was dead silence in that hot greenhouse. I took her hand and placed it on the sausage shaped lump in the front of my pants that enclosed my penis in all its erect glory as it fought frantically against the bounds of its material prison to achieve its menacing phallic juggernaut form and to point straight at this excellent young woman’s body. She took a hold of my whole cluster of balls and cock or as much as her tiny hand could hold and proceeded to rub it up and down and side to side, rolling penis and balls around, looking up at my face to wallow in the pleasure she was bestowing on me which was considerable I have to say. I couldn’t restrain myself and placed my hand between her legs and reciprocated her efforts on her plump little twat, squeezing and kneading her. I could see her breathe in deeply and push against my hand even more. She pushed her hand on top of mine to increase the pressure on her vagina, thrusting her hips forward as the animal in her came to the fore, prompting me to squeeze harder to the point of pain for me at least as my arthritic hand was starting to hurt. That drove my dirty old man lusting index through the roof; I wanted to feel her plump little twat in the flesh and the pain in my hand was going to have to suck it up! My fingers sort out the elastic waist band of her knickers and pressed between it and the warm silky delightfully soft flesh of her belly, slipping on down between her legs to cup the bald plump vulva lips of her vagina, a finger slid between them and into her moist crack, before penetrating her warm slippery little hole. She was gasping and started to breathe more heavily and grabbed my arm as my finger slid in and out like a piston rod. I stopped and apologised for hurting her. She corrected my false impression saying something like “oh no, that was good! Do that again”. I checked out through the doorway to see if anyone could see us and shut the greenhouse door slightly to cover our debauchery. She chastised me and told me to leave it open as it added to her excitement. I obeyed my sexual little fox and struggled to reach and open the, now almost out of range, door again as I mounted her leg, rubbing the bulge in my pants up against the side of her thigh in slow deliberate, hip gyrating, wiping thrusts. I held onto her far shoulder and pulled her into me, enveloping her, my hand still buried in her panties, exploring and squeezing her twat in sync as I rocked rhythmically and humped into her leg, almost bear hugging her. I looked over the top of her head out the door to see if we were indeed able to be seen but we were a fair way from the otherwise quiet, tall tree covered street anyway. In all of my concern she had been busy trying to push me off enough to undo my pants. I ceased my disgustingly unsophisticated humping of her leg so that the little darling could access my tool. She unzipped me and pulled out my pre-cum saturated cock. It sprang out abruptly from my pants flinging pre-cum though the air to land on the greenhouse bench and flowers, a clear string like strand even landing on her arm. My tool stood up hard and veiny and slightly blood red like a rampant lion looking for something to devour. She couldn’t take her eyes off it. Even as I pulled her pants down and off she stepped out of her pants still looking at my stiff, hard, blood red phallus. She picked up an old rag from the bench, gave it a shake to rid it of cobwebs and proceeded to wipe my tool and balls of some of the pre-cum before looking up seemingly for praise having done a good job of cleaning me up. I lifted her up onto the greenhouse bench prompting a little “ooo!” from her, and a dusty bench it was too. The state of the bench didn’t seem to bother her as I stood beside her, my arm around her shoulder. I used my hand to spread her legs and fingered her twat a few more times before concentrating on her clit. I tried clumsily to pull up her top with my free hand and rest it on the top of her tits. Almost impatiently she peeled the top off and sat there completely naked except for her runners. I had to stand back and admire the mind swirling sight before me. I am an old bloke don’t forget, I could have passed out with lust! She was brown all over; she must have olive skin as there were no bikini strap marks anywhere. Her body was firm and full, what you would expect of someone her age. Her body was so delightfully perfect that I could feel my cock getting even harder to the point of being painful, but I didn’t mind. Her nipples were erect (I like a good sized nipple but not too big) and stood out hard. Her tits were magnificent; the top of them sloped in slightly down her chest before they arrived at her areolas and nipples giving the tits that jutting out look. The areolas were ever so slightly raised and puffy above the surface of their tit and the nipples, as I said, were a nice size and just begging to be sucked. She sat (a devilish look on her face) with her shoulders back, thrusting out her chest to show off her rack to the poor pathetic male under her control. Her thighs were fit looking and yet padded like a woman’s thighs ought to be. I opened her legs and bent down and licked up the inside of each thigh. I kissed and licked the sweat off the roundness of each of her breasts before sucking down on the nearest nipple, slipping a finger between those plump lips to massage her clit in a slow merciless fashion, stunned in wonderment at the sight of her plump lips forming around my finger as it slid and gyrated around on her slippery clit. She had placed her arm back to support herself on the bench and was throwing her head back and thrusting out her chest to give me access to her tits, allowing me to suck on those delicious orbs; I couldn’t get close enough to this woman’s body. Damn it! Men are disgusting animals! I could feel the bumpiness of my shaft in her tiny hand as it ran up and down the full length, stopping briefly to torment the knob before plunging down the rippling shaft again dragging the foreskin back and forth over the knob, the occasional splash of pre-cum flying off the end of the foreskin with each plunge. My assault on her clit had graduated to a full on finger assault of her wet hole as with one or two fingers inserted, my hand slapped mercilessly into her plump twat lips at a frenzy pace. She was leaning back, her mouth open, “aaahhing” with each slap until the aaahging merged into a continuous flow as my slapping increased. There followed by a brief silence and then a stunted scream as she climaxed (squeezing my tool hard as she did so), ending off with a short panting session. I raised my hand from between her legs eager to get to her tits but she gasped out a quiet “don’t stop!” with a look of dismay on her face. We were going for a second orgasm it seemed but my back was killing me (I am an old guy don’t forget) and so I dropped to my knees between her legs but not before dropping a piece of foam rubber (another old guy necessity) I use for gardening onto the floor. I presented my face to her hot wet box and kissed her plump lips. She wasn’t in the mood for such niceties. She grabbed my head, positioned it in front of her snatch, tightened her grip on the back of my head and pushed my face into her crotch. It was dark in there as she ground her twat all over my face. I felt her lips wipe across my nose. It fell into her crack briefly before continuing on its way brushing across the other lip as her hands guided my head around her groin area. She leant back on one hand to support herself, just lying back, her other hand on the back of my head holding it in place and her legs gripped the sides of my head so much so that my hearing came and went from muffled back to full sound and then back to muffled as she tensed and relaxed her thighs as if she was using my head to fuck her twat. Breathing became a little difficult at one stage and I had to pull back, take a gasp and then plunge my head back into its warm dark nest between her legs. When she allowed, I resumed my munching on her clit, my eyes making a very close inspection of her short pubes, my finger just below my chin poking her hot slippery hole at the same time. I had taken over the pulling on my tool as it dangled down somewhere down there between my legs. I have never been an avid cunnilingus type of guy but this was more of a case of her wiping her twat all over may face, with me seizing the chance when I could of sucking (more slobbering over) her labia lips and licking and nibbling on her clit. It didn’t take long and I felt her tense up, her hands and legs tightening their grip on my head followed by a brief period of silence and then a pressured scream once more. She pulled my head out from between her legs and gasped out that she couldn’t do that again and I was to stop. I didn’t mind and was glad of a rest and took the chance to wipe her juices off my face. So there is this gorgeously naked young thing sprawled back on her hands, her box beckoning. I hauled her legs up and around my waist and flopped my tool onto her lovely little twat, thrusting my hips forward, driving the shaft up and down over her lips. She took my phallus in hand, inserted me and let out a little squeal of pleasure as I drove it quickly into her up to the hilt. A minute or two of frenzied animalistic thrusts into her warm wet hole and I couldn’t contain my orgasm any longer, filling her with my hot jism. I listened to the squishing sound of our juices as my shaft continued to penetrate her in those final desperate twitching thrusts of orgasmic pleasure. I strained every muscle in my groin striving to fill her completely before withdrawing, - the tool flopping down spent and loosing hardness by the second, - to watch our juices run disgustingly back out of her hole and drip from her twat lips onto the dirt floor. She didn’t seem to be out of breath at all, such is the advantage of youth I suppose. She pulled her top down to cover her tits and I dusted off her buns of potting mix before she pulled on her pants and continued on her way around her circuit of the local streets. Whether she bothered giving the other pervert a cheap thrill I don’t know, but she did come back later for her plant. After that and when she returned every so often to visit her father, she occasionally dropped in when doing her jog. I’d like to say that it was for a root but mostly it was for a chat and I didn’t mind that either. Sometimes, if I asked nicely, I got a hand job around the side of the house. As she stroked me, she would tickle and gently scratch her nails along under my scrotum as she looked up into my face with that vixen like grin. She was such a tease! That certainly helped my excitement, not that it needed that much assistance, then as she could tell my orgasm was imminent, the stroking would increase, foreskin flapping, pre-cum flying off in all directions on the downstroke and plum coloured knob exposed in all its shiny glory on the “up” and she would gently squeeze my balls in a pulsating action in an attempt to milk as much cum out of my ancient balls as she could. I am not sure if that is the way it works but hey who was I to criticize. I think she liked watching me spurt judging by the fascinated look on her face as I blew, bless her, and at her insistence, we had to do it around the side of the house (albeit at the end of a long tree shaded drive way) in possible view of the street as she liked the excitement aspect. It was like a hobby for her and who was I to deprive her of her hobby and there was the side benefit that I got to play with her tits as she attended to me. I still get a stirring in my groin when I think about her.

28 January 2026

0 Comments

18 Likes

I hadn’t even planned on staying the night. My flight was grounded thanks to the storm rolling over the city, sheets of rain hurling against the airport windows as if the sky was angry at us all. The airline gave me a voucher and a hotel just off the strip. Nothing fancy, but clean, quiet. Room 1203. Twelfth floor. Corner room. I remember because the front desk clerk made a joke about the number, "Don’t worry, sir, no superstition here." By the time I got in, I was bone-tired. Stripped out of my damp clothes, tossed my bag on the chair, and pulled open the curtains to see the storm for myself. That’s when I saw her. Across the way, maybe two floors down, maybe three, but the same wing, lights on, blinds wide open. And she was undressing. It wasn’t a show. That’s what made it worse, or better. She was just moving through her room, barefoot on carpet, hair still damp, pulling her sweater over her head. I stood there, dumbstruck, as her bare back came into view. The line of her spine. The gentle curve of her hips in plain black panties. She had no idea. Or maybe she did. She turned slightly, enough to give me a glimpse of her chest, but not enough to feel deliberate. Just a sliver. A flash of skin. And then she vanished into the bathroom. I stood there like an idiot, suddenly aware I was still naked from the shower. My room was lit, too. The curtains open. The storm behind me. If she had looked up… Was she looking? I should have moved. Should’ve turned off the lights, should’ve closed the blinds, should’ve had some basic human decency. But I didn’t. I waited. Heart thudding in my throat like I was a kid again, caught somewhere between guilt and adrenaline. Then the bathroom door in her room cracked open. Steam rolled out first. Then came her shadow. Then her. She walked out wrapped in a towel, barely. It clung to her, damp in places, showing the contours of her hips, the curve of her breasts. Her hair was up, twisted messily in a clip. She moved to the window and paused. And looked right at me. We locked eyes. I felt it like a spark, instant and raw. My hand went still on the curtain. Her expression didn’t change, just a slight tilt of her head, like she was trying to decide if I was real. Then, slowly, so slowly, she let the towel drop. There was a moment, barely a heartbeat, where time didn’t move. She stood there, framed by the light of the room, body bare, skin kissed by the gold glow of the bedside lamp. Her breasts rose softly with each breath, nipples taut. Her stomach was flat, hips full, thighs strong. Between her legs, she was smooth, unhidden. She wasn’t teasing. She wasn’t posing. She was offering. And I couldn’t look away. My hand was already wrapped around my cock, thick and throbbing, the weight of her gaze fuelling a hunger I hadn’t felt in years. There was something about being seen. About knowing she was watching me, as much as I was watching her. Then she lay back on the bed, still angled toward the window, her legs parting slowly. Two fingers slid down her stomach. Paused. Then dipped between her thighs. Her head tilted back, lips parted. I could see her chest rise as she drew in a breath, her fingers stroking gently at first, circling, testing, coaxing pleasure. My hand moved in rhythm, tight and slick, every motion synchronized with hers like some unspoken dance. She moaned, silent to my ears but loud in my mind. Her back arched, one leg bent, opening her further, her fingers pressing deeper now, then drawing up to circle over her clit in slow, deliberate motions. God, she was beautiful. Her hips rolled, her pace quickened. I matched her, palm slick, strokes steady, every nerve in my body tightening with the buildup. Her mouth formed a soft ‘O’, her free hand gripping the sheet beneath her. Her thighs trembled. She was close. So was I. Our eyes locked one last time. And we came, together. Her face lit in ecstasy, mine flushed with release, the silence between us somehow louder than any sound. She collapsed back onto the bed, flushed and glowing, a satisfied stillness in her limbs. I leaned against the window, breath fogging the glass. It didn’t feel like voyeurism. It didn’t feel like a mistake. It felt like a secret. A moment that existed only between us. Even if we never spoke. The next morning, I checked out just after eight. Fresh shirt, coffee in hand, suitcase rolling behind me on worn carpet. She was there. At the front desk. Same eyes. Same face. Hair loose now, jeans and a sweater, the illusion of normalcy wrapped tightly around the memory of what had happened the night before. She glanced at me. I glanced at her. Nothing was said. She signed something, nodded politely to the clerk, and walked right past me without a word. Without a smile. Without a flicker of recognition. But I knew. And I think she knew I knew. Two strangers. No names. No promises. Just a moment. Burned into memory. Through the glass.

27 January 2026

0 Comments

4 Likes

I’m not great at story telling but I’ve been part of a 3some before. It was when I got broken up with on New Year’s Eve in the city one year by someone who wasn’t emotionally available and I never should have dated... long story short. I happened to run into my ex girlfriend and her then partner. They invited me back with them and promised to cheer me up and it was unplanned but kinda just unfolded that way. So I went from tears of heart ache to watering eyes for other reasons and I have zero regrets in passionate lust and caught in the moment. Focus was all on her rather than me and I enjoyed that a lot because I wasn’t interested in her partner Not that he wasn’t attractive or well endowed, just not my type personally but we mutually wanted to give her a night to remember and help me forget my tears. I think about it often. I really would love to pleasure another woman again but also have it reciprocated mutually. I loved going down on her and making out heavily and suckling on each others breasts and just forgetting how terrible my night was before I ran into her. I loved the way she felt grinding against me as we got wetter and wetter too. Nothing compares to the uniqueness and sensory experience of woman to woman.

27 January 2026

2 Comments

28 Likes

With my fingertips ever so lightly start caressing your body beginning at the neck my touch light as a feather continue down along the sensuous side of your mid section down to the bottom curvature of your beautiful ass cheeks tracing the curve inward towards your honey hole , not yet!!! My fingers will now run lightly up your butt crack to the sensitive lower back both hands weaving there arousing touch one hand for each side of your sexual temple across your lower back down to your curved cheeks back up to breast curvature each time getting closer to to the outside edge of your erect nipples Back down your butt crack still not yet!!! Further down your legs following the inside of your thighs down to your knees and back up to your breasts then forcefully catching you by surprise I quickly flip your trembling body of building arousal onto your back so my fingers or feather can now work there magic on the front of your heavenly temple. Now starting at the bottom of your ear lobes down the sides of your neck down the valley between your breasts tracing those gorgeous feminine lines the arousing curve of your breasts around but not quite touching your nipples yet tracing circles around your nipples closing in and slightly touching the side of your nipple. Different scenario Well being the gentleman that I am I would politely ask for your permission to help remove it for you. Once your beautiful breasts are free from irritation and your nipples aroused and hard. I know this because as I was slowly removing your bra for you. I was ever so lightly kissing the side of your neck from your ear lobe down to your shoulders. But my kiss would not reach your breasts yet because from my hand I produce a feather. I begin slowly with the lightest of touch circle your nipples trail it down the middle of your chest and across your bellybutton down to your pussy but don't touch the kitty yet left or right it's your choice whichever way you go continue down the inside of your thigh then back up the inside of your leg the other side back up the same way to your nipples and repeat. Let me know if not only your nipples are hard and erect but your pussy is moist and totally wet! Handy tip the lighter you are with the feather the more arousing it is.

25 January 2026

0 Comments

2 Likes

The story of Rochelle and her first hock-up 1 So he cancelled on Friday which pissed me off, but on Saturday he texted me, we had some general flirty exchangers and he asked me to pick him up. He was staying just down the road around the corner, which was really cool for me. So anyway I picked him up and before I could ask he was rubbing leg. Asking me some stuff I wasn't listening to, feeling his hands wandering around my dress. My optimism quickly turned into how I could pleasure a man who obviously wants to release his frustration of his bisexuality into his desire of a feminine male. Got back here where I had my sissy room set up and all lights down low We sat on the couch and rubbed each other and kissed... He had a beard which I knew it wouldn't like and his taste was not the best. That was the only kiss. I like kissing, never forget when younger I kissed a girl who had pillows for lips. Next thing he pulled off all of his clothes and his cock was in my mouth so fast. I love the lips around my cock keep going, he said as I tried to negotiate the fatness of his cock in mind; His cock was fat and about 7". I wonder if I could get it in. Wow, it felt so good that anyone wanted to do that with me. I sucked on it for a little while and got my tongue all the way to his balls making me gag a bit. Rochelle was apprehensive she was giving a blow job to someone who knew how a slut sucked cock. Her uneasiness was put to rest when the fatness of his cock hardened and he started to pull the dress up on my back Next I took my dress off exposing the next layer of my sexuality for the first time in front of a total stranger hoping to get a reaction. Rochelle wanted to know so much about her hard work in becoming a crossdressing slut. Must of been alright because we play with each other for a while Then he asked me about the sissy room ,so I grab his cock and lead to the room He push me straight onto the bed and started to rip my panties off and rubbing my ass I thought, he is going fuck me strait away and I stretched out as far as i could and just managed to get the lube and gave to him Wham he was in and it hurt like hell. ‘get it out’ I said. Let's start was something smaller passing a medium size dildo to him. Without a word he worked my asshole over. 2 So he was using the dildo in my ass, started off slow and it wasn't long before he had the whole thing in there. moving all around , in and out. I was waiting for the next thing, then he pulled it out. I moved to the middle of the bed on all fours and placed my head into the pillows exposing my gaping ass in the air. He rolled in behind and with ease he slipped his hot hard cock into the waiting hole. I felt the weight of his body slowly forcing down on my hips and I let out a moan of pleasure. Back and forward motions started to increase in pace. I was feeling no pain but instead my mind was floating into a world of heavenly lust of sissy slut. I just let it go and pushed my head further into the pillow to muffle the mix of moans and groans I was not sure how to release. Then he stopped... Looking up I knew he wanted a new position. Rolling onto my side sticking my leg into the air. We went for it again, but it wasn't going as well and he got off the bed to look down on me and I could see the amorous drips perspiration glistening on his chest in the dim light 3 I just wanted him in me, and immersed back into the pillows. Sure enough he was back in with a bit more vigour and my pleasure increased to a point of... Holy shit where the fuck am I, oh fuck what is happening with dry tears of joy rolling around in haze of confusion of man who was lost in his fantasy world of Rochelle's desires of becoming a crossdressing piss slut. It was only a few months earlier this lonely old man was pulling his pud to porn wishing to be the one on the film. Rochelle's rapture instantly became lust and started to push back on her knees to get the full length of the tower of power that was driving her into a foul mouth dirty slut that no mother should hear. In hearing this he jumped to the other side of the bed and pulled her face straight onto his raging cock closing down any thoughts of being a pin cushion and faced fucked her to the appurtenant of lost of breath. Eyes rolling back in her head she wondered if she could take it anymore. Lucky the next thing Rochelle knew was her face was back in the pillows screaming harder not wanting it to stop. Then it happened, the climax. Those last few pumps that you know leaves a man emission of semen, and turns him into a guilty narcissist self-absorption of nasty copulation with the person you just fucked. Wow, I didn't think I would come up with that. Getting off the bed and straight to the bathroom. Rochelle was left in a recovery mode that was more exhausted than she could ever know and with a huge smile on her face, like a giggling school girl fulfilling her character of a sissy slut. Getting up she put a new pair of panties on. 4 Going back into the lo wondering what’s going to happen next to see him putting his shirt back over his head saying “can you take me back now”. With that i grab the keys and open the garage door and get into the car still in a daze giddy disorganization of blissful bewilderment. The drive back was not like the drive there and was quiet and fast. Pulling up to drop, Rochelle plucked up the courage to ask how he thought the night went for him. Opening the door Rochelle couldn't quite hear what he said, but heard the word wife and instantly knew she would not be seeing this guy again. Rochelle didn’t really care because she got what she wanted. Halfway home she could feel herself leaking into her panties and knowing when she's got home that she will be immersed in the thoughts of a sissy slut with a creampie to savour and enjoy to the full.

24 January 2026

0 Comments

11 Likes