Ay: Mayıs 2023

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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Read to me.I never imagined that words, especially those three uttered by my girlfriend, would have had such orgasmic impact. They did.I knew everything about her, or so I thought. Spent countless hours studying her face, her body language, all her mannerisms and quirks. That adorable little wrinkle she gets in her nose when she’s perplexed or how she bites the bottom corner of her lip when feeling frisky. Turns out, I had a lot more to learn.Reesa’s teeth were pinching that luscious bottom lip when she approached, holding out what looked like a small transcript, and said, “Read to me.”She handed me the thin folio of papers, neatly bound by an angled staple in the upper left-hand corner. I looked at the front page, then back at her. “Is this my story?” I asked.“Yes.”“Did you… type this out? By hand?” I quickly poured over the pages.“I did,” she answered.The way each letter smartly indented the paper, it was clear it had not been laser printed, but typed using a vintage typewriter. I needed affirmation.“Did you use my old Smith-Corona? I thought it was broken?”“Not important how I typed it out, baby.”“And, you want me to read it… to you?” I looked at her again.She was smiling but serious. Her hands were clasped in front, swaying slightly, as if she was a giddy schoolgirl turning in last night’s writing assignment.“Yes.”“This?” I pointed again to the front page with a raised brow and an upticked pitch in my voice, still a bit flabbergasted.“Yes,” she repeated, confidently.“It’s, umm, pretty dirty.”“I know, love. You wrote it. I’ve read it. And yes, I have typed it out.” Her voice was soft and stern, with eyes to match. “Now, I want you to read it. To me.”“Out loud?”“That’s usually how it works,” she purred.I continued to stare at her. Was this some sort of trap? She had read some of my other pieces, with mild interest. But, The Taxman Comes? I ratcheted up the heat for that story. Was she upset? She wasn’t acting upset. The inquisitive crease in my brow held firm for a hard, contemplative minute as I tried to get a read of where this was headed.My career in erotic fiction was happenstance, or maybe it was destiny. I graduated from UCLA the year prior with a degree in journalism; despite countless parental warnings. ‘It’s a dying profession.’ ‘Where will you find work?’ ‘It pays shit money.’I heard them all, didn’t care. Heeded no advice. I am a passionate woman and something inside was telling me to write. So, I followed my heart.I secured a job as a technical writer. Boring. It paid the bills though, and Side Escort at least mom and dad were pleased. But, it wasn’t long before something felt missing, empty. I needed more. Craved more. My imagination was far too active to be satiated by penning manuals for software developers. It was stifling for someone who doesn’t just see the world, but feels it.So, I created a pseudonym and made an attempt at writing short love stories. Hot, short love stories. A few of them gained popularity on a local story site and I was approached by a publisher who encouraged me to spice it up. So I did. It was the kick I needed.The ensuing works were picked up and moderately successful. The readers were happy. The publisher was happy. I was happy, for a moment. But the happiness soon fed a desire and the desire drew me full circle to that need; the need to keep spicing it up. So I tried, but something just would not click.I wouldn’t say I had a block, it was more like a repetitive rut. I was churning out the same drivel, over and over. Change the plot, change the characters, change the setting, yet the end result felt like the same story.The Taxman Comes was an experiment of sorts; to see if writing graphic sex would break me from the cycle. It was a debaucherous story filled with raunch and filth. A story Reesa was waiting for me to read… out loud.The subject matter tore through my mind and a bit more vacillation injected its way in. But, she did transcribe it. She had to know what she was in for. I looked at her, softened my voice and began:“…The rain finally let up, enough for Mandi to step out from the bar she had scurried into for shelter. The sudden, but brief, deluge had thickened the night air in the French Quarter with a sticky, steamy haze. Disgustingly humid…”My eyes floated up over the pages to see Reesa spin away with a jovial bounce in her step.I settled into my armchair, pulled a blanket over my lap and continued.“…Mandi was wet and her sheer floral blouse clung to her skin. It was unbuttoned halfway down her small chest. Nipples, unprotected by any undergarment, were erect and visible through the semi-transparent material. A lingering chill from the bar’s air-conditioning further pushed them…”I paused.“Sorry babe. But, why am I reading this aloud?” I asked.She had already scooped up two oversized pillows and tossed them to the floor in front of the leather chair where I sat; a favorite when I wrote. Reesa would usually curl up on the adjacent couch and indiscreetly keep manavgat escort bayan me company. She’d often read, or scour the internet for shoes and clothes, or just simply lay there and look inspirationally gorgeous.But this time, she was preparing to settle at my feet with a scheming look in her eye. A look I was not entirely familiar with.“Because, I want you to,” she whispered.Fuck, she was provocative.I watched her lower to the floor. Our eyes met as if we were strangers seeing each other in a crowded bar, communicating with just a series of looks. Mine were searching, hers were dripping with sex in an enigmatic way.She laid back on her elbows, resting against the propped up cushions. A suggestive smirk bending into the corners of her lips. Her pale-yellow slip-dress had fallen from her shoulders. Dark, wavy tresses delicately traced down framing her semi-exposed chest. She was wide-eyed and attentive, visibly eager and awaiting the next string of words.“…Mandi was desperate for a smoke. But, the spate that had soaked her to the core, made any attempt at lighting a damp cigarette impossible. Her attention was drawn to an alley across the narrow cobblestone street. She peered intently. Two men, huddled under a drab green awning.‘Probably would have made for a better option than that icebox of a bar,’ she thought. The sounds of husky laughter, coming from the direction of the men, quickly shook the judgement from Mandi’s seedy mind…”“Are you sure this is the story you want me to read?” I asked, again.Reesa pushed back deeper onto her elbows. Her legs were bent at the knees and pinched together. Demure. She looked up at me and nodded her head slowly. Yes.“What about the mystery short I wrote? Filled with sex and romance. It’s been well received. Let me read a few of the commen…”“Not the same, baby,” she interrupted. “Now. Please, continue.”Once again, our eyes connected. I took in a deep breath.“…Mandi strutted across the unbalanced rue, making her way closer to the mystery men; eyes painted as red as her cheap lipstick. Neon lights rippled in the puddles as she strode in the otherwise dark night. Her heels purposely clicking against the wet stone to announce her approach. This was her street and tonight she was working it, soggy clothes or not. Maybe these gents would have a dry smoke and a couple of thick cocks to enjoy after….”The words seemed clumsy as they spilled from my lips. It felt… awkward. We had enjoyed sextalk in the thralls of passion before. Escort alanya But reading this, as if I was reading my lesbian girlfriend a bedtime story, a naughty, obscene bedtime story, seemed a bit odd.I looked up and noticed her cheeks were flush and I was sure I had heard a gentle moan earlier when I pronounced the word, cocks.I pressed on.“…Mandi was already creating backstories in her head for the men across the street. To her, cocks were like fine cuisine. Their taste was a key aspect, but the backstory behind the chef preparing the meal always intrigued her.These boys were particularly perplexing in that regard. One was tall, the other short and portly. The tall one was wearing a leather vest over a Jethro Tull t-shirt, dirty jeans and leather boots to match the vest. He’d be called Jethro for obvious reasons.The shorter one, he was more of a mystery. His head was strewn with sparsely thinning hair. Thick, black-framed glasses dominated his chubby face, and he adorned a short-sleeved button-down shirt and khakis, like he had just stepped out from doing Jethro’s taxes.“What’re two fine men like yourselves doin’ on my block at 3:45 in the mornin’? Up to no good I’m sure.” Mandi said in her most seductive tone. Jethro looked at her, then turned to the taxman and erupted in a hearty laugh…”I momentarily broke from the pages, half expecting to see an empty pile of pillows at my feet. Or contrarily, Reesa munching from a charcuterie board of meat and cheese in front of a crackling fire while I recited my naughty tale. To my surprise, I saw neither. Rather, she was now fully laid back, eyes closed, the top of her dress pushed down, hands covering her tits.“…Up to no good indeed, princess. My newfound friend here was just about to suck my dick.” Jethro blurted out crudely while grabbing his crotch. He probably expected Mandi to turn and walk away, but she was no stranger to his kind. In fact, his retort quite intrigued her.“Well,” she replied. “For a cigarette, maybe I’ll help him.” Jethro let out another dramatic belt, like a pornographic Santa. Then, fumbled in his vest and produced a pack of Marlboro reds and a smirk…”Having read the story countess times in the course of editing, I had practically committed it to memory. I was able to fluidly recite the words while frequently peering up to gauge her reactions.Reesa was a sensual site to behold, so for a moment, I did. I watched as her fingers curled their nails into the doughy flesh of each breast. Her breath was audible through her nose. She was tantalizing, seemingly lost in her head. I wanted to toss the papers and push her legs open to crawl between them.“Keep reading, baby,” she whimpered to the ceiling.“…An orange glow illuminated Mandi’s dewy face as she took a hard drag. The burn in her lungs made her feel good, alive.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Anthony and I had been together since high school. Even though we had known each other much longer (somwhere along the lines of third grade). Once we both graduated, he moved on to become a doctor, and I a pilot in the air force. It was difficult to stay together through college and all but somehow we made it. After our lives were finally in order we decided to settle down and get married. It wasn’t a surprise to any of our family; they had expected it to happen. We’ve been married for about three years now and just recently our sex life has been a bore. Every time I try to initiate something he just blows me off. I’m not sure if he’s not attracted to me anymore or if he’s interested in someone else, but as of lately it’s really bothering me. When I try to talk to him about it, he reassures me that he loves me, and that there’s no one Escort side else. I just can’t help to notice how he looks like he’s bored and is missing something.He’s a very attractive man. He’s around 6’ with a relatively athletic build (due to the swimming he did in high school and college). Not to brag on myself but I’m not too bad looking either: I’m 5’7 with D cup breast and a decent waist (probably could be better if I laid off all the burgers and alcohol, but what’s the point of life if you cant live a little?)Both his and my sexuality is very fluid; it has been since high school. We both identify as pansexual. Honestly, I’ve really missed being with women and I can bet he misses being with a man (seriously we’ve been together so long that it’s been a while since either of us got any action from the manavgat escort same sex). I have a plan to satisfy both of our “needs” at the same time. With each other. Without cheating. I’ve been watching a lot of pegging porn lately and oh God does it turn me on. I love the man’s facial expressions when he takes an 8-inch cock up his ass. I know that he could be faking it for the sake of the porn but I can’t help but hope he truly enjoys it. Almost every time I watch it I imagine it’s Anthony taking the massive cock into his cute little ass. Fuck, my mouth waters just thinking of it. I’m sure Anthony knows I watch porn, but I bet he thinks it’s just lesbian shit or BDSM stuff. After I had finished rubbing my clit to this hot video of a handsome man begging to be fucked by an Amazon woman with long alanya escort bayan blonde hair, I immediately ordered a strap on from some random sex toy website. When my package arrived the next day (yeah I paid for overnight shipping… I was horny and money had no meaning to me!) I felt just like a kid getting a new pair of shoes, excited to try them on and even more excited to break them in. Since I wanted to please my husband as a man, I figured I needed to look the part. I already have short black hair so that wasn’t an issue. My make-up skills are pretty good so I gave myself a sharper jaw, an Adams apple, a more defined nose, and thicker brows. I paired my new face with a very tight sports bra, a loose fitting tee shirt, and some baggy distressed jeans (of course with the strap on already on). I waited for Anthony to come home and see all the work I had done for him. It took about an hour before I called him to ask him when he’d be home from his shift at the hospital and he told me he was on his way. I was so excited I almost screamed. Anthony walked through the door about ten minutes later and his jaw hit the floor.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Dear Cuck.As always, it was very kind of you to lend me your wife for the night, and equally unwise.Still, by now you know more or less how my mind works, so you really only have yourself to blame. Or rather, since you know how my mind works, I can only assume that you approve. I’m taking the opportunity to write this while your wife is upstairs sleeping. That way you will know all about what she’s been up to before she gets home.Oh dear, I feel a hard-on coming on as I write. I fear I shall need some relief before I deliver your wife into your safe hands again.Oh well, that’s by the by for the moment.I imagine you thought your wife and I would enjoy an evening at home. Your wife certainly seemed surprised when I informed her that we would be going out. But she didn’t complain. Of course, that may just be because she’d already agreed to do as I wish, instruct, desire, command, whatever you want to call it – as she always does. To be perfectly frank, I don’t really care what you or she expected. You both know me well enough by now to know that I demand complete compliance with my wishes. Your wife is all I could wish for in that respect. I wish I could say that you have trained her well, but you know as well as I do that you are much too lax with her, and that it is I who have trained her. The first time you lent me your wife she was much too insubordinate for my liking. Still, I enjoy a challenge, and now your wife is a model of obedience – at least when she’s with me.I was pleased to see how much care she’d taken with her attire and make-up. Of course I knew roughly how she would look, having requested it (we’ll call it requesting, but we all know…). Oh those beautiful legs in white nylon. That was one of the things that first attracted me to your wife, those lovely legs stretching to heaven. Well, to her supremely gropeable arse at least. High heels coloured the deepest shade of sin. The white dress clung to her very neatly indeed. One false move and she would have showed off her stocking tops, but she didn’t put a foot wrong. Enough cleavage to titillate without appearing slutty. A model of modesty, your wife.And then those ruby red lips, which always send my dirty mind into a fever. I’m no expert on make-up, but whatever your wife had done to her skin and her eyes was scintillating. Your wife always has a nice, shy demeanour about her, but now she had an edge of dark sinfulness radiating from her eyes. Dark sinfulness dressed in virginal white. Perfect.I had to check, Cuck. You know I had to check. Yes, hold-ups, as required; no panties. I was pleased with that. I have nothing against panties, as long as they’re crotchless. You know how I feel about these things. Panties only get in the way. I refuse to let any fuck toy of mine restrict access to her pleasure holes. I told your wife this when I complemented her. I’m pleased to be able to report that she seemed rather amused by this, even though she also went rather red. I found that extremely attractive.I’m sure your wife expected me to get to work on her straight away. That’s the feeling I got at any rate. Not that I care what she expects, or even wants. She’s my fuck toy, so she’s mine to use any way I please. I only mention this because I want you to know that she seemed a little disappointed when I did no more than make sure that she was correctly attired under her dress. Indeed, she seemed slightly surprised when I told her I’d be taking her out to dinner.Do you really want me to bore you with all the trivial details surrounding dinner? No, I didn’t think so. It was a very nice dinner, though your wife ate very little, no doubt nervous about what lay ahead of her. Not that she knew anything about it, but from her previous experiences she had fair warning that I’m a dirty fucker, so I suppose her nerves were understandable. Me, I was expectant. Besides, I positively revelled in seeing the number of glances your wife attracted from other men (and some women). Dear me, how that wife of yours turns heads when she’s dressed up. Not that she looked slutty in any way; stylish and sexy, but nothing like the fuck toy she in fact is. Perhaps it was the slightly coy, slightly expectant disposition that did it. Perhaps she just exuded something, Karşıyaka escort transmitting the sure knowledge that this evening she was to be used, toyed with, fucked. I can’t say what, only that I enjoyed it.We left the restaurant and moved on to a club. Not your common or garden night club; a much different kind of establishment, of which I happen to be a member. You don’t get in unless you’re a member, or the guest of a member. We had a drink. We’d only had a glass of wine each over dinner, so the alcohol really only added up to a pleasant buzz.Here people looked at your wife too, much less surreptitiously. Eyes raked her over, sized her up. I could tell that she noticed, though she tried hard not to meet anybody’s eye. So modest your wife, for one who has so gotten into the swing of being a little fuck toy. So modest for one dressed in virginal white but with dark sinfulness radiating from her eyes.I need to explain to you about this club. The upstairs, where we had our drink, was nothing out of the ordinary; a bar, tables, seating, people laughing and conversing. But all of this is on the ground floor. If you go downstairs, you find yourself in a completely different environment. Hardly an environment really, but a number of rooms; some custom-made for very definite purposes, others more like hotel rooms for casual assignations.There’s also a main room, a larger room than the others. This is where theme nights are held. This is the only room that can be accessed directly from the ground floor as well. Once your wife and I had finished our drinks, I took her there. People were still looking her over. Further in people were dressed (or undressed) a little differently; some in ordinary clothes, but others in just their underwear, or in fetish garb – this is an area where anything goes. Men actively turned as we passed to get a good view of her gropeable arse or her gropeable tits. I wanted to grope her arse, but refrained, as I had done all evening.We came to a black door. “What’s this?” your wife asked. She was staring at the sign next to the door. THE THEME ROOM VIEWING GALLERY. TONIGHT THIS IS THE GANGBANG ROOM.“After you,” I said, opening the door.The main room has a viewing gallery accessed from the ground floor, consisting of overhanging walkways running the full length of all four walls. There are also stairs at the back of the room, leading down to the main room proper; the theme room – tonight the gangbang room. As we entered there were unmistakable sounds echoing round the walls. Your wife had stopped dead, and this time I did place the palm of my hand on her arse, ushering her to the right, past the people already gathered to watch.Shortly I found a gap between two men, who were leaning over the balustrade, watching the action below. Still with my hand on your wife’s arse, I ushered her in between the men. Their heads turned slightly; they were checking her out.Below us the action was in full swing. I recognized the completely naked, skinny redhead who was the centre of attraction. She was a regular in the gangbang room. I couldn’t see how your wife was reacting to what she saw, but I could slide my hand down to touch the insides of her thighs where I stood behind her. I stroked the white nylon, enjoying the way she tensed slightly. Do I need to tell you that my cock was throbbing? Throbbing the way it is now. Yes, I will definitely require your wife to service me before I return her to your safe hands.Anyway, I needed to restrain myself, which I pride myself on being very good at, just contenting myself with touching your wife, stroking the insides of her thighs, alternating between the nylon and the naked skin as we watched the action going on below. The skinny redhead was on all fours on a raised platform of padded, vinyl, screaming out loud as she was fucked hard. Her head was pulled round and her cries muffled by another cock being stuffed in her mouth.The two men on either side of your wife seemed divided. Both turned their heads to check your wife out some more. One of them looked back over his shoulder at me. I gave him a nod, pulling my hand away from my fuck toy to indicate her fine arse.He reached out to squeeze your bornova escort bayan wife’s buttock. Soon the man on the other side did the same. Your wife was standing there, watching an insane gangbang down below, while her arse was groped by two strangers. Not being able to see the expression on her face, I couldn’t tell what her reaction was. Not that I cared. She’s my fuck toy, and for the moment I was happy for my toy to be enjoyed by others. You know a thing or two about that, don’t you Cuck? In that respect perhaps we’re alike. Perhaps it’s the only way we’re alike.The skinny redhead was on her back now, legs drawn up and she was screaming, “Oh yeah! That’s it! Oh yeah!” A consequence of the man fucking her pussy hard. On either side of she had men groping her tits. Oh yes, she was wild this one.In front of me, the strangers’ hands were squeezing your wife’s arse through her dress with greater intensity. I liked that. My cock was throbbing like mad. I wouldn’t have minded getting it out and placing it between your wife’s thighs and making her close her legs on it. But like I said, restraint is everything.What I mean, Cuck, is that when a man is as generous as yourself, lending a man your wife to be his fuck toy for an entire night, there’s a virtue to pacing yourself. With a woman as sexy as your wife, it’s not hard to get it up any number of times in a night, but there’s no point in going at things like a bull at a gate. You need to let things take their time.Below us the skinny redhead was having her tits slapped by big cocks as she moaned and moaned. It was obvious from the noises the guy fucking her was making that he was about to cum. “Yeah! Cum in me!” the redhead cried. “Oh fuck yeah!” It was obvious to everyone that she was cumming as he shot his load deep inside her.The redhead was pulled round. Having seen her before, I knew that she was like a non-stop fucking machine. She was given a cock in her mouth, then another cock entered her newly spunked, orgasm-tight pussy. Other men spanked her arse and groped her tits. It was fucking amazing. A huge load of spunk was delivered on her mouth, great globules landing on her skin. She was fed a new cock almost instantly.These theme nights. They’re very well organized. The gangbang room, for instance, is advertised in advance, and you can book it for a set period of time on a first come first served basis. Bookings are posted by the main entrance to the room, so that everyone can see what entertainment is on offer, should they wish to join in. There’s also a regular newsletter, just in case some special activity tickles your fancy. I knew from experience that the skinny redhead’s description of herself never varied. Outside the main entrance (and in the newsletter), it always read, “Fuck Doll – wants to be used by as many men as possible.” I’d sometimes wondered what her personal record was. One day I must approach her and ask.Fuck Doll was an appropriate name for her. She was pulled across the room, this way and that, revelling in being no more than an object for these men to use. A talking, moaning doll to be sure, but a mere plaything nonetheless.But I digress. It’s your wife you’re interested in, isn’t it, Cuck?Having watched those two strangers grope her arse through the dress for a while, I decided it was time to make things more interesting. I took hold of the garment and began pulling it up. Your wife didn’t move a muscle, good obedient fuck toy that she is. The two men glanced back at me, then removed their hands long enough for me to pull the dress up, exposing your wife’s naked buttocks.Hands were replaced, the two strangers fondling your wife’s naked arse. To my delight, the man on the right didn’t content himself with that, but began sliding his hand diagonally across. Yes, that’s right, Cuck. In next to no time this complete stranger had his hand between your wife’s thighs. In next to no time this complete stranger was touching your wife’s naked pussy as she watched the depraved gangbang action below us.I’m happy to be able to report that your wife liked it. I know, because she told me so later. From where I was standing it was difficult to see exactly what was going on, but Escort üçyol your wife told me later that the stranger had managed to slide his finger a little way inside her. What a delightful fuck toy your wife is! I love it that she likes being groped by strangers like this. As you know, before it had only been her and me, but she took to being mauled by strangers like a duck to water.Do you like that, Cuck? Do you like it that your wife loves being groped by strangers? I only ask to be polite, it’s not like I care. All I care about is that your wife behaves herself, that she’s an obedient fuck toy; my obedient fuck toy. And if I want her to be groped by strangers, well then I expect her to allow it. That she likes it is beside the point, though it’s a definite bonus.It’s something to remember for the future. Maybe I’ll invite you along next time, Cuck. Maybe we’ll go somewhere special where you can stand to one side and watch strangers feel your wife up. Does that make you hard, Cuck? Maybe the thought even makes you cream your underpants. I don’t care. All I care about is that your wife is and remains my obedient fuck toy.Anyway, I digress. Down below, in the gangbang room proper, the skinny redhead was still being fucked like the demented slut she probably is. Laying there, holding hard cocks in each hand, she was screaming, “Yeah! Fucking cum in me! Fill me right up!”Up in the viewing gallery, the men changed over, as if by some secret command. The man on the left got to feel your wife’s pussy, while the other one went back to fondling her arse. I can see why you find it exciting, lending your wife to me, Cuck. It was exciting watching her being groped by those two. Hell, if I were married I might lend my wife out left right and centre.Anyway, the man on the left looked back over his shoulder. I gestured to him, and he moved his hand away from your wife’s pussy; the two men once again fondling her naked buttocks. Now I could get in on the action, placing my hand on the white, virginal nylon before sliding it up the inside of your wife’s thigh. All the way up, until I too could slide a finger inside your wife’s pussy.I’m pleased to be able to report that there were clear signs that your wife had enjoyed everything that had happened so far. I mean, she told me later, but I’d already gathered that. Not to put too fine a point on it, Cuck, but your wife’s a slut. I mean what other word is there for someone who produced so much liquid pleasure from being groped by strangers while watching a real live gangbang? Oh yes, you’re darling wife’s pussy was eager and ready. Your darling wife was eager and ready for anything. She didn’t have to say anything, and of course she never says much. But her cunt spoke volumes, Cuck. Volumes.I slid two fingers slowly inside your wife as the other two men mauled her fine arse. I couldn’t see her face, but I didn’t have to. Those honey-coated walls spoke volumes about how eager, ready and willing she was. For anything. You should have felt it, Cuck, really you should have.The man on the left slid his hand over your wife’s buttock. His fingers found her butt crack. I was delighted. I could see his finger move where I knew your wife’s delightful anal opening was. He didn’t probe her, but I knew he wanted to. He had obviously worked out the relationship between us, because he looked back over his shoulder at me. “Does she do anal?” he asked.“I don’t think she’d object to having a finger up her arse,” I replied.So there she stood, Cuck, your wife, with two of my fingers in her cunt, a stranger’s finger up her arse and another stranger groping her buttocks, while she watched a depraved gangbang down below.Can you see it in your mind’s eye, Cuck? Does it excite you? I’m rock hard from the memory of my little fuck toy standing there like that. I’m rock hard from remembering how my little fuck toy just got wetter and wetter, my fingers getting creamier and creamier.“Oh yeah! Fucking open me up and fuck me!” the skinny redhead was screaming.“Unbelievable,” the man on your wife’s left said.I diverted my gaze from your wife to the action for a moment, just in time to see the skinny redhead with her arse in the air, her buttocks held apart as a thick cock plunged into her back passage and shafted her violently. Anyone who didn’t know would think she was being tortured the way she was screaming, but we regulars know what kind of slut she is.Talking of sluts, Cuck; there was your wife with a finger up her arse, two fingers in her pussy and a hand fondling her buttocks.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

It’s not often that a married couple with two teenaged kids gets the opportunity to get out of town for a weekend alone. So when the weekend came and we suddenly found ourselves without kids or any other commitments, my husband and I jumped at the chance to get away for a couple of nights. I’m not sure if it was being away from the kids, or getting out of town, or maybe a little of both, but I felt a feeling deep within me that I hadn’t felt in awhile. It was a mixture of excitement, apprehension, and something else that I couldn’t put my finger on. The trip out of town was relaxing and passed quickly. My husband asked me if I was wearing any panties under my dress, I pulled it up to my waist to show him that I was completely bare under my clothes. He got a little grin on his face and said, “Good. You won’t be needing them this weekend.”My stomach jumped a little and I felt myself get a little wet just thinking about what this weekend had in store for us. I was tempted to ask him what he had in mind. But decided it might be more fun to wait and be surprised. Upon our arrival, we checked into the hotel and quickly made our way up to our room. Even though we hadn’t talked about sex that much in the car, I knew we were both on the same page and were ready for it immediately. My husband didn’t disappoint me. No sooner had we closed the door behind us and set our bags down, he was unzipping my dress and pushing me towards the bed at the same time. His mouth was on mine as our tongues danced in each others mouth.As I was falling back on the bed, I was pulling at his clothes to get him naked. In a matter of minutes we were both without clothes lying on top of the bed kissing each other with our hands running up and down each others body. I needed to feel his cock inside me immediately and told him that. I could feel my pussy juices already dripping alsancak escort out of me. He got on top of me and slid his cock inside of me with one quick thrust. It was exactly what I needed and I whispered in his ear. I knew he would be adding to the wetness between my legs soon and couldn’t wait. He didn’t disappoint me. Soon he was pumping me full of his cum. Sometimes a quick, hard fucking is exactly what I like. My husband rolled off of me and looked down at my creamy pussy. I started to move my hand down there to play with myself. One of my favorite things to do is to masturbate with my husband’s cum and make myself come. Before my fingers could get lost in my pussy, he grabbed my hand and said, “Don’t.”I must have looked confused, because he told me that he had other plans for that cream. I started to ask what he was talking about, but decided just to go with it. My husband had me lay on the bed while he cleaned himself up and got dressed. After he was presentable, he told me to put my dress back on but not to clean my myself. I started to laugh and told him that I would have his cum running down my leg if I didn’t. He didn’t answer with words, but the look he gave me let me know that was his intention. I asked him where we were going as we left the room and made our way toward the elevator. He said that he thought we both needed a drink. The hotel bar was dimly lit and had a few people sitting throughout the small room. I was sure that everyone in there could smell the sex on me and his cum already starting to drip out of my pussy and down my thighs. \My husband led the way to two bar stools at the bar. We ordered our drinks and made ourselves comfortable. I started to cross my legs, but he put a hand on my thigh and said, “Don’t.”I gave him a questioning look and then relaxed as his hand pushed alsancak escort bayan my dress up to the middle of my thighs. Then he told me to spread my legs. I know I didn’t drink enough alcohol at that point to label myself as drunk or even slightly buzzed, but I was really into this game he was playing with me. Plus, I was incredibly horny since I hadn’t had a chance earlier to make myself come. We drank and talked about nothing in particular and were having a great time. My husband excused himself to use the restroom. I was definitely feeling the effects of the drinks by now, but in a good way. As I sat there thinking about the great weekend we were going to have, a nice looking man stepped up beside me to place his drink order. We looked at each other and smiled. As he was standing there next to me, I watched his nostrils flare and realized he must have caught the aroma of my sex. It was too late to close my legs without being obvious.I glanced to my right and saw my husband had returned and was sitting at the far end of the bar. He gave me a slight nod of his head and a sly smile. I almost laughed out loud. He had set this up! Throwing caution to the wind, I swiveled on my bar stool so that I was facing the man next to me. We started up a conversation after he had introduced himself as Rob.The bartender interrupted us by placing two drinks down and said they were from the gentleman at the end of the bar. We turned toward my husband raising our drinks saying thank you. He gave us a small nod and went back to looking on his phone. Somehow when Rob turned back towards me, he ended up standing in between my legs which were still spread at my husband’s command. The casual small talk we had been engaging in before our drinks were brought over was gone.We stared at each other while my mouth went dry. escort alsancak Without thinking, I licked my lips. I thought I heard a slight moan from him. I felt his hand on my thigh, but I never took my eyes off of his. It was hard to concentrate, but I suddenly became aware of his hand moving closer to my drenched pussy. I wanted to look over at my husband to check his reaction, but I also didn’t want to interrupt the moment in front of me. I slid forward slightly on the bar stool and felt Rob’s finger brush against my clit.I’m sure it was me who moaned out loud that time. The stare was never broken, but his hands definitely started moving. I helped the situation out by spreading my legs a little wider. I felt Rob thrust one of his fingers into my pussy. I don’t know who was more surprised, me or him – me for actually doing what I was doing in a public place, or Rob as he realized how soaked I was! Rob withdrew his finger and casually wiped it across his own lips. When his tongue reached out to taste his lips, I felt a jolt spread throughout the lower part of my body. I knew I couldn’t sit at the bar for too much longer without causing a scene. Rob leaned forward to talk directly in my ear, “Should we continue in your room?”I glanced over to where my husband had been sitting, but he was no longer there. I’m sure it was the alcohol I had consumed that made me agree to his suggestion. We walked together to the elevator with the only physical contact being his hand on the small of my back. When we reached the room, Rob took my key from my hand and opened the door. Once the door shut, everything moved into fast motion. In a matter of what felt like seconds, both of us were naked and on the bed. It reminded me of what had happened earlier on the same bed with my husband. Rob lay on top of me so I could feel his hard cock rub against my pussy. He shifted lower down my body until his face was in my pussy. I couldn’t believe he was eating my pussy that was full of my husband’s cum from earlier! He traded off between fucking me with his tongue and sucking on my hard clit. I knew it wouldn’t take long for me to orgasm if he kept doing what he was doing.

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After Maggie was gone Scotty leaned over and said, “Things are starting to heat up. Check that out.” He nodded towards a table near the dance floor. I followed his gaze and immediately started to chuckle. I’d been so focused on Maureen that I’d neglected to pay attention to what was happening on the rest of the ball room floor. At the table Scotty was pointing towards a woman in her mid thirties was kneeling on the floor between her partner’s legs. His trousers were unzipped, his erect cock was out. She was giving him a blow job in front of everyone. I glanced around the room. Several tables to the left of the woman giving head a young woman was lying on her back, her skirt was pulled up around her waist. Her panties were lying next to her. Her playmate for the evening was sitting in a chair between her spread thighs. He was leaning over. His face was buried in her sex. The bodice of her dress was pulled down. As her gentleman friend kissed and licked her cunt she madly pulled on her nipples. At another table a woman who was at least fifty was straddling a young man sitting in a chair. Young enough to be her son, he looked like he’d just graduated from college. Her red silk blouse was unbuttoned exposing her large breasts. He was eagerly kissing and licking her nipples. I turned to Scotty and said, “Didn’t you tell me there were private alcoves for sex.” “There are and very soon everyone will start moving to them. “Why? I mean…” Scotty smiled. “While almost all forms of foreplay are permitted on the ball room floor, public ejaculation and orgasms are considered a breach of etiquette and actual fucking is strictly prohibited.” “Really?” Noting the tone of surprise in my voice, Scotty said, “Yeah, when we first started coming here I was curious about that too. It seems like a pretty fine distinction to me.” “I agree, but who am I to…” “Guys, this is Danny.” Scotty and I both turned. Maggie was immediately behind us. A slender young man nattily dressed in a gray checked sports coat, charcoal gray slacks and an open collared pink oxford cloth dress shirt was standing along side her. She had her arm around his shoulder. While he was clearly in his twenties, his modest stature, tousled ash blond hair and slightly effeminate features gave him a distinctly boyish appearance. Scotty stood and extended his hand. “Hi Danny, I’m Scott, but you should call me Scotty.” He nodded towards me. “This old coot is my good friend, Michael.” Rolling my eyes at the label, old coot, I stood and smiled. As Danny shook Scotty’s hand, I said, “Please excuse my young friend. His immaturity prevents him from appreciating the value of both wisdom and experience.” Chuckling, Danny let go of Scotty’s hand and shook mine. Maggie said, “I’ll get a Heineken for Danny.” She turned and climbed the stairs to the bar. As she was leaving, the three of us sat down. As soon as we were settled Danny said, “The waitress is nice.” Scotty nodded. “Maggie has a knack for making all of the men in the gallery feel at home.” Glancing around, Danny said, “I had no idea there were so many men who enjoyed watching their wives with other men.” “While it’s a singular taste, it’s not quite as unusual as many people might think it is.” Scotty was smiling. I said, “I’m just making the same discovery. It’s comforting to know that we’re not the only perverts in the world.” All three of us chuckled. Maggie returned with a bottle of Heineken and a glass. She set the glass in front of Danny. After pouring half the contents of the bottle into the glass she set it on the table and asked, “Are the three of you getting acquainted?” Danny answered, “Yes, thank you for seating me with them. They’re very nice.” “Your welcome sweetie. I’ll leave you alone so you can watch your wives.” As soon as Maggie was gone, Danny pointed to a table on the left side of the ball room and said, “See that man in the blue blazer? The brunette sucking his cock is my wife, Rachel.” Scotty said, “Maggie pointed her out to us earlier. She’s very pretty.” Not taking his eyes off of his wife, Danny smiled. Scotty added, “The man she’s with is quite a bit older than she is.” “Rach likes men of different ages. She says that while older men may not be as vigorous as younger men, they’re generally more indulgent and patient lovers. She also believes that they tend to be a little more imaginative.” “Indulgent and imaginative, my wife enjoys Escort izmir those qualities in a man too.” Scotty was smiling. Danny asked, “Which women are your wives?” Ginger and Maureen had returned to their table with their young men. The men were both seated in chairs. Ginger and Maureen were sitting on their laps. Their blouses were open, their breasts fully exposed. Both couples were making out. The two men were freely fondling their naked breasts. Scotty pointed at their table. “My wife, Ginger is the red head seated at that table over there. The brunette is Michael’s girlfriend, Maureen.” Danny looked at me. “You aren’t married?” “I am married, but that’s not my wife.” “Doesn’t your wife like to play around?” I smiled. “No, that’s not it at all. She loves to play around. Right now she’s entertaining her boyfriend in our house in Minneapolis.” “But you’re not there.” “No, I’ve been away from home since last August.” “I don’t understand.” “Last August Jeanne, that’s my wife, announced out of the blue that she was going to start dating other men and made it clear that those dates were going to include sex.” “Out of the blue?” “Yes.” “Damn, that was harsh.” “At the time I thought so too.” “That answer would imply that you’ve changed your mind since then.” “Let’s just say that I now have a better understanding of what Jeanne was thinking at the time. She also now realizes that she should have found better ways to present her desires to me.” “Since you’re currently sitting in the cuckold gallery of a private club catering to hot wives I assume that you’re now more amenable to her dating other men.” Laughing, I said, “Yes, I think that’s an accurate observation.” “I’d be interested in hearing about the events that changed your attitude.” “It’s a long story.” Scotty said, “I think you could give Danny an abbreviated version.” “You’re right.” I spent the next ten minutes outlining the key events of the previous five months. When I was finished Danny said, “Michael, your wife loves you.” “I realized that in San Francisco. It made it much easier to start understanding.” “Her?” “No, both of us.” “Do you also understand just how lucky you’ve been?” “You’re talking about Amy and Mel and Maureen.” “Yes, what are the odds of walking into that particular Tucson Strip club at that exact moment?” “Astronomical.” I was smiling. “And then repeating it in a Fort Meyers steak house.” “Serendipity.” “Seren what?” “Serendipity, Amy and Mel talked about it. It means to stumble across wonderful treasures when you least expect them.” Danny grinned. “I like that. Meeting Rachel was serendipity for me.” Nodding, Scotty said, “Meeting Ginger was serendipity for me.” Looking at Scotty, Danny said, “Michael just told me his story. Will you tell me yours now?” “Only if you promise to tell us yours when I’m finished.” “Deal.” “All right.” Just as Scotty was beginning his story he stopped, abruptly. Danny and I both looked at him with questioning expressions. He was staring. I followed his gaze. He was watching Ginger and Maureen and I immediately understood what had captured his attention. Maureen, Ginger and their partners for the evening were all standing. In a hushed voice, Scotty said, “Michael, look.” Also quiet, I answered, “Yes Scotty, I see what’s happening.” We watched Ginger and Maureen walk arm in arm with their young gentlemen to the entry way to the bedroom alcoves. After they disappeared through the door Scotty said, “I can’t explain it, but every time I watch Ginger going into a bedroom with another man my heart starts to race.” Chuckling, Danny said, “Face it Scott, you’re a cuckold and it excites you. Don’t try to explain it or justify it, just enjoy it.” “Danny, for a kid you’re pretty fuckin’ smart.” Scotty was laughing. “I try.” Danny was laughing too. While Scotty and Danny were talking Rachel stood up and pulled her paramour to his feet. I said, “Danny, Scotty, look.” Danny said, “I see it Michael.” Once again maintaining rapt silence we watched Danny’s wife walk across the ball room floor arm in arm with her handsome older gentleman. As they passed through the doorway leading to the bedroom alcoves Danny whispered, “I never get tired of seeing this.” Chuckling, Scotty said, “Danny my friend, you are also a true cuckold.” Danny grinned. “Yes I am. Once Maureen, Ginger and Rachel were all out of our sight Danny said to izmir escort bayan Scotty, “Okay, let’s hear your story.” Scotty quickly related an abbreviated version of the story he and Ginger had told Maureen and me the previous evening. When he was finished Danny said, “Rachel has a couple of regular boyfriends too.” I said, “We’d like to hear about them. It’s time for you to tell us your story.” “Okay.” Danny paused to think. After a moment he said, “Rachel and I met in college. We were both seniors at Stedman College in St. Petersburg. I was a math major and a volunteer tutor. Rachel was struggling with a business math class she was taking.” “You were a mathematics major?” “Yes.” “What do you do now?” “I’m an account for Reynold’s Beverage. It’s a liquor distributor in Miami.” “I’m an accountant too.” “Who do you work for?” “I have my own firm.” “That’s why you can manage to be gone for five months.” Smiling, I said, “I have some good people working for me, that helps.” Scotty asked, “What does Rachel do?” “She’s a real estate agent, a very good one. I earn a comfortable income, but Rach generally makes almost twice what I make.” “Ginger makes a lot more than I do too.” Scotty shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.” I said, “Okay, you were both Seniors at Stedman College. Rachel was struggling with her business math class. You were a math major.” “And a volunteer tutor. The math department assigned me to Rachel. The first time I met her I was terrified.” “Terrified? Why?” asked Scotty. “I was a scrawny little math major. Rach was gorgeous and she had a reputation.” Scotty said, “Your wife was a campus slut. Mine was too. I find it to be one of Ginger’s more endearing qualities.” Danny and I both laughed. Danny said, “Believe me, Rachel’s reputation definitely excited me, but…” his voice trailed off. I said, “It also terrified you, didn’t it.” “It really did. To me and to my friends too, she was an unapproachable goddess of lust and desire.” “So how was your first meeting?” I was enjoying the story. Knowing that Danny was eventually going to marry his goddess gave it a guaranteed happy ending. Danny smiled. “It was wonderful. Rach is the sweetest person I’ve ever known. We worked. She listened. She learned quickly. We chatted. We laughed. By the end of the hour I was enamored.” I said, “She must have liked you too.” “She did and that was a mystery to me. She dated athletes and fraternity guys with fancy sports cars. I was a scrawny little math major who’s entire entertainment budget was less than fifty cents a week.” Scotty asked, “Is that still an mystery to you?” “No, not at all. It was at first, but once I got to know Rach I discovered that she’s really well grounded. While she does enjoy glitz, it’s only a minor appeal. Commitment, honesty and trust are much more important to her. She also loves to laugh.” “I like your wife,” I observed. “I do too. We were scheduled for three one hour tutoring sessions a week. By the end of the third session I was smitten.” “The first time I met Jeanne I was smitten.” “That’s what happened when I met Ginger too.” Smiling, Danny continued. “What is still a mystery is that Rachel was also smitten with me. She tells me that I’m cute and sweet and smart and most of all, I’m a really nice guy.” He shrugged. “I guess I’m just lucky.” I said, “Danny, all three of us were lucky. Sadly, it’s taken me some time away from home to remember the good fortune I had.” Scotty said, “I think Jeanne had to do some remembering too.” Nodding in agreement, I said, “When you’ve been married for a long time it’s easy to start taking each other for granted.” “A cuckold, hot wife marriage keeps things exciting.” Scotty chuckled. “Of course if that that kind of marriage is going to work you both have to have the right dispositions.” Danny laughed. “That’s for sure, but if you do have the right dispositions a marriage like that can be a lot of fun.” “I’m looking forward to finding that out when I get home.” Scotty said, “All right Danny, you were smitten with Rachel and she was smitten with you. What happened next?” “After our third tutoring session Rachel asked me if I’d like to have a cup of coffee with her in the campus grill. Of course I was ecstatic and immediately said yes.” Danny paused. After a moment he said, “The coffee date was wonderful. We laughed and chatted for over an hour. Finally Rach izmir escort told me that she was having so much fun that she didn’t want the afternoon to end. I agreed, so she invited me to come back to her apartment with her.” “That must have excited you,” offered Scotty. “It definitely did, but I was so timid and naïve that I just assumed that all we were going to do was talk some more and maybe study together.” I said, “Even though you knew about her reputation.” “Yes, but she always dated jocks and rich guys. I took it for granted that she was way out of my league. You have to understand, I was a math nerd and I was still a virgin.” Scotty asked, “So what happened when you got to Rachel’s apartment?” “Rachel lived by herself in a studio apartment. It was only two rooms, a kitchenette and a living room/dining room and oh yes, there was a tiny bathroom. The kitchenette had a a sink, a refrigerator, a hot plate, a microwave oven and a small table with two chairs. The living room/bedroom had a double bed, an arm chair with a small ottoman, a writing desk with another kitchen chair and a tiny television sitting on a two shelf book case filled with stacked papers, notebooks, textbooks and a few paperback novels.” I said, “It sounds like a pretty typical college apartment.” Nodding, Danny continued. “As soon as we were inside her apartment Rachel sat down on the bed and patted the spot next to her. I sat down. She smiled at me, I smiled back and then she put her arms around me and kissed me. We didn’t talk. We just started making out. As we kissed Rachel took my hand and placed it on her breast. I was amazed. Scotty said, “I’ll bet you were.” “But I was even more amazed when she slipped her hand down to my crotch and started rubbing my cock through my jeans.” “Yup, definitely more amazing. I bet that got your motor running.” Scotty was grinning at Danny. I was too. Danny answered, “Yes, definitely, like I said, I was a virgin. That was the first time a girl had ever touched me there. And she’d just placed my hand on her breast. While I was naïve, I wasn’t stupid. I understood that was an invitation, so I slipped my hand under her sweatshirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra. I was actually touching her bare breast.” “So what did Rachel do?” asked Scotty. “She unbuckled my belt, unzipped my jeans and pulled my cock out of my underpants.” “This is great. What happened next?” Scotty was eager to hear more. So was I. “It wasn’t all that great.” Danny’s voice was suddenly quiet. Sensing he was embarrassed, I gently asked, “What happened?” Scotty said, “You popped, didn’t you.” Danny nodded. I asked, “Were you embarrassed?” “Of course I was, but only for a moment. Rachel was so kind. She told me not to worry. She said it happened to guys all the time and then she jumped up from the bed, ran into her bathroom and returned with a damp wash cloth. After she cleaned my cum from her hand and from the front of my jeans she set the cloth on the floor next to her bed, kissed me softly on the lips and stood up. I thought she was going to tell me to leave, but surprisingly she didn’t. Instead she pulled off her jeans, sweatshirt and panties and then she lay back down on the bed and spread her legs.” “Another invitation,” observed Scotty. “What did you do?” “At first all I could do was stare at her pussy. I’d seen them in pictures and movies but that was the first time I’d ever seen one for real.” Chuckling, I said, “I can understand that reaction. What did Rachel do?” “She started giggling. She wasn’t laughing at me. Rachel is really nice. She would never laugh at anyone. She was giggling because she was enjoying what was happening. Sex is really fun for Rachel. That was one of the first things I learned about her.” “So how did you respond to that?” I asked. “I started giggling too. Rachel hugged me. We kissed. Still giggling we rolled around on the bed. After wrestling for a minute Rachel whispered to me that it would be more fun if we were both naked.” Shaking his head, Danny said, “I was kind of a nerd. I needed direction, lots of direction.” Scotty and I both smiled at him. “But I wasn’t a total nerd. I immediately started tearing off my clothes.” Danny grinned at us. “While I was undressing Rachel spread her legs and started fondling herself.” “I’ll bet that revved your engine,” joked Scotty. “My engine was already running at full speed.” Nodding, I said, “I’ll bet it was. What happened next?” As soon as I was naked Rachel asked me if I would kiss her down there. I was so excited that I could barely speak. All I could do was nod, yes. That made Rachel giggle.” Scotty said, “I love going down on Ginger. Hell, I love going down on her girlfriends too.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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I suppose it even happened to cavemen. You come home from a hard day of hunting dinosaurs with a club and find your woman in the back of the cave getting boinked by another caveman. Of course, being a sensitive, considerate caveman with a tiny dick, what else can you do except sit out in front of the cave and let them finish. It wasn’t the first time a girlfriend had cheated on me. But I didn’t think Mary would. And not in my own bed. I was twenty-nine, she was twenty-two. She’d had only one boyfriend before me, and one drunken screw at a party. She was pretty, though not in a sexy way, with long dark hair and big brown eyes, small but round breasts, and a gorgeous perfect behind. She wasn’t all that great in bed. Mostly, she just laid there. If she got excited she might moan a little, usually while I was licking and sucking her love button. If she was really turned-on, Karşıyaka escort bayan she might go “Oh, yeah,” a time or two as she came. But she did let me fuck that glorious ass whenever I wanted to, which was all the time, and I had no complaints. That Saturday morning as I let myself into my apartment she was practically screaming, “Oh, yeah! Oh, Yeah! OH, YEAH!” I sat on the front porch swing, waiting to see who would emerge. A guy she’d been recent roommates with in college? One of her step-brothers, whom she’d admitted to sucking off naked a few times? About ten minutes later, my landlord came out with another guy. A handyman, a carpenter, maybe, or a plumber. “Hey, Greg,” I greeted him. “Hey,” he said. “How’s it going?” I waited another ten minutes. The guy must have left through the basement and out the Escort bornova back door. Mary was standing at the kitchen sink, in the short silk Japanese robe I’d given her to wear when she visited, washing a few coffee cups. I kissed the back of her neck. “Hi, Honeybuns,” I said. “Hi, Guy,” she said. She always called me “Guy” when she was feeling friendly. Maybe she had been masturbating, which she claimed she never did, anticipating my arrival. I knelt and lifted the back of the robe and kissed that incredible ass. She gave me a little coo of appreciation. Juice was oozing down her inner thighs, some of it obviously another man’s seed. She smelled like cunt and cum and raw fuck. I covered her buns in kisses, then licked my way down her asscrack and tasted her back door. She was agreeable, so I stood and whipped out Junior, üçyol escort all three inches of him rock hard and ready, and plunged him into her chocolate. About five seconds later I came super hard, as I always did. I knelt again and licked her clean, then turned her around and began sucking her clit. It was like giving a blow job, though neither of us had ever acknowledged it. I kept sneaking my tongue down to taste her wetness. I guess I still wanted to believe I was wrong, but I could taste him. The guy didn’t even have enough respect to pull out and squirt. A minute or so later, she rewarded me with a little “ooh” and came. “Thanks, Guy,” she told me. “What do you want for lunch?” I didn’t know what to say. When she got out of the shower, I asked, “How’s Danny?” Danny was her step-brother. He’d been going through a bad divorce and she’d let him play with her pussy a few times while she blew him. She didn’t consider that sex, just a silly favor to ease his anguish. She looked embarrassed. “He’s fine,” she said. “I think he has a girlfriend.” Did that mean she wasn’t blowing him anymore? Or was she the girlfriend? I waited for her to confess, but she didn’t.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Methinks I have mentioned from time to time the existence of The Little Sketching Group (LSG). The LSG was formed when I was eighteen, in the spring before covid hit, by my photographer friend Harry and consists mostly of older males and a few females, many of whom are customers of Harry’s photography business. The LSG was seen to be necessary because, though the local art galleries provide some opportunities for sketching enthusiasts to sketch live models, they are often a part of organized art classes and are, in any case, rather strictly controlled. Harry’s friends complained of ugly models, cold studios, hot studios, poor viewing angles and not enough pussy. That is opportunities to sketch pussy, not get some.So Harry proposed an arrangement where he would start sponsoring sketching classes at his photography studio. This would solve the problems of heat, cold and viewing angles. He asked me to provide the pussy. For sketching purposes only, of course. I agreed and became principal model (chest puffs out) along with carefully selected guest posers including my cousin Eefje, my age, a popular Dutch import, my older sister Robin while she was pregnant, my middle sister Molly while she was not pregnant, and one of Harry’s daughters, just sixteen and claiming to be a virgin, which excited the artists. Everything worked out very well and we continue to meet every month, masked and, through the covid period, properly spaced to ward off germs.My first experience with posing for sketching was when I was sixteen for Robin, a very competent artist, which to me means if she does your portrait, people can actually tell that it’s you. She wanted to work from the nude and I, always ready to strip at a moment’s notice, enthusiastically obliged. One difficulty was that we were not the only ones in the house. There was the matter of my three brothers. But I handled the situation with aplomb and on the approach of any of them with their lacrosse buddies, I feigned indifference and remained butt naked. I mean, you have to get dates somehow. It didn’t work out very well, though, due to an apparent reluctance on the part of the guys to screw their teammate’s little sister.Another difficulty was my father. In good weather months I would pose in the yard on the picnic table, seated always with a fluffy towel between my bare ass and the eating surface. My dad for some reason did not look well on emerging into the sunlight to behold the puppy brown body of his younger daughter. Mummy solved the problem by suggesting I keep handy another fluffy towel with which to cover whatever parts of me Dad didn’t want to see.Anyway, I had been working with my photographer Harry doing catalog work for some time. Some of the legitimate catalog work involved things like sports bras and bikinis. At some point we began to consider doing exhibition work, which meant dispensing with the bras and bikinis and revealing every detail of my nubile body. The money was better. Harry showed me samples of what we could do, mostly bare boob and bare bum shots. Nothing he showed me was in any way near explicit. izmir rus escort bayan Showing off my snatch was not on the agenda. At least not in good light.So we started. I loved it. I have good boobs and being a jock you can bounce a quarter off my tummy or my bare ass and I’m reasonably pretty so we figured nude photos of me might sell. At first he offered me pasties for my boobs and tape for my pussy and there was a robe handy if I wanted to cover up in between so he could bring the shots up on his laptop to show me. I eschewed the pasties and robe but I did tape my pussy early on so I wasn’t actually naked. Later I went all the way, knowing I was excruciatingly desirable, and if a shot displayed some cunt Harry kept it for sale to his private clients, cutting out the gallery fees so everyone went home happy and my genitals are now a part of art history.Anyway, Harry began exhibiting his photographs of me in the local galleries. A few caught people’s attention, like the ones in which I was nude. Harry knew exactly what to do and showed me as shamelessly wanton as a girl could be with her knees held tightly together. At that time one of the River Street galleries was offering sketching classes featuring nude female models, and some of Harry’s photo customers suggested to him that I might fill the bill. And of course they would finally get to see me in real life.Harry sensed an opportunity to increase photo sales by popularizing his model, so one Thursday at mid-day Harry and I kept an appointment with the sketching class director to check out the venue and find out what was required. Harry did the talking about money, I being uncomfortable talking about getting paid for taking all my clothes off. The director, a woman of about sixty, explained that the summer classes for which they needed models were work sessions, as opposed to instructional. This meant that during class she would give instructions to the model but none of any consequence to the artists. They presumably would know what to do and their task was simply to do it with my wetness and trembling fire of my naked body providing the inspiration.I knew nothing of sketching. I had learned on the internet that a typical session involved groups of poses lasting as little as thirty seconds and as long as thirty minutes. This was indeed what the lady had in mind, some thirty-second poses, then one-minute poses, five minutes, ten and half an hour efforts. The goal was not to produce a likeness of the model but to work on and appreciate form and movement. We would probably work for two and one-half hours with the shorter poses occupying the first two hours and then do the half-hour pose.I would of course be butt naked except during breaks when I had to cover myself. No wandering around the studio bare ass except for an endearing smile like I did when Harry photographed me. I was to wear no jewelry except studs. She asked if I had any tattoos (I don’t) and said she preferred models with pubic hair (I have none and didn’t plan on growing any). Unshaved models show less escort izmir otele gelen detail of their genitals, she told us, and she had no plans on having me display my pink parted lips to a room full of men.We inspected the posing premises, a fairly good-sized room on the second floor above the old gallery, there being a new gallery on the end of the building nearer Plum Island. It was in that new gallery in which I had stood unrecognized, a day earlier, watching people examine the nude photos of me which adorned a small corner of the gallery walls.The sketching room was a tad shabby looking, I thought, crowded with the kind of stuff one might expect to see in the attic of an art gallery. Anyway, the model posed in the middle of the room on what might have been a coffee table covered by a sheet. I hoped a clean sheet, as she must at some point recline on it in the nude. As I would be posing in the middle of the crowd it occurred to me that at any given time a number of the artists would be staring right at my taut little ass. This seemed a tad rude but I was later informed that after each pose I would rotate ninety degrees, thus affording a changing view of my girlish charms. On either side of the posing platform were long tables at which a portion of the artists would sit. Past these were so-called donkeys, small individual seats with lectern-type things upon which they could rest their sketching materials. Further back stood easels behind which artists would stand and then tall chairs upon which more people could sit.Being used to photography I was more struck by the differences than the similarities. Here the model’s appearance mattered little. One could be tall or short, fat or thin, pretty or not. It didn’t seem to matter whether you washed your hair (I do) or made up (I do some). It didn’t matter whether you had large tits or small (we covered that above), a big ass or not (ditto) or nice legs, which I think I do. Not everyone who is photographed is nude but being nude was required here (of course my sister required it too when she sketched me).The lighting was uneven and not very bright and the background was hopeless. The orientation of one’s body was different for every artist and when I lay down some people were looking at the top of my head or my feet or right at my bare ass. In photography, there are constant interruptions. Adjusting the hair, adjusting the light, move this way or that, mild cursing (Harry), repeat. Download the results, look, point, more mild cursing. Repeat. In sketching, one assumes the pose and if it’s anywhere near right one holds it for whatever time is required.That day I had worn a short black dress with spaghetti straps which just covered the bottom of my ass, no bra so my nipples showed prominently, black thong panties and flats. All this to show off my legs, my best feature, and my behind. At any rate I guess I looked promising because finally the woman asked Harry to leave the room so I could strip naked for her. I told her I had no intention of undressing in some attic buca escort unless someone I knew was present, and I was rewarded with a dirty look from her and Harry was rewarded with the chance to see me naked for the nth time. I pulled my dress over my head, took off my thong and left my flats on. I was indeed all rose and honey, the hot hollow of my groin plainly visible. She inspected me with a clinical air and seemed happy. Harry seemed indifferent, which is usually what happens.At any rate, I was hired and Harry and I repaired to Michael’s Harborside for a late lunch. We sat outside though they had those big plastic things down to protect against the wind. I consumed a large burger and fries, which one can do at eighteen and not get fat. Always the gentleman, Harry offered to buy me a beer even though he knew I was underage for drinking, though apparently wise enough at eighteen to decide whether I wanted to remove all my clothes in front of a crowd of strangers at sketching class.We talked business after we finished eating. The woman would not pay much, not a surprise to anyone who has ever done figure modeling. I did not have to grow pubic hair, a plus since Harry knew all his older male customers enjoyed the shaved look, something unknown on women their age. I would probably do just one session here, Harry would invite all his customers who would, we hoped, appreciate my wholesome good looks, my orphan innocence, and we would form our own group. Ten days later I did my session at the gallery and met many of the men, and two women, who were interested in a new group. Next day, Harry called me and told me we were all set and explained the arrangements.Group members would pay a fee for each session and have complete control of what happened, except for my insistence on a no-touching rule and the discouragement of anything like a full-on pussy pose. Harry would take all the photographs, as opposed to doing the sketches, and sell direct to his photo customers, cutting out the gallery fees. We would meet at Harry’s, where the artists could smoke (outside), drink (in moderation) and eat (probably not in moderation). We would do three-hour sessions once a month and Harry would pay me directly. I would do the requested poses and remain naked during the breaks, chatting happily with the artists. That was Harry’s idea, not the artists’, but it seemed a sure way to encourage continued attendance. Despite the no-touching rule, I did tolerate the occasional hand on the shoulder, which then proceeded down my back to pinch or pat me on the bare bum. But only from the regulars; a girl must have standards.We were all anxious to begin but the artists wanted a few days to line up a few more pigeons to help share expenses. All moneys would go directly to Harry to help maintain an air of respectability. They also needed to assemble drawing stations, similar to the donkeys, easels and tall chairs I saw at the gallery session. Harry provided a posing platform and good, photo-quality backgrounds. The artists would gather in front of the platform so each would have a good view of the model. Harry would take photos as the circumstances permitted and he would consider requests (for photos, that is). He was supposed to make it clear beforehand that the model was not interested in fucking the customers, though I’m not sure he did. In any case, as time went by I got many inquiries about private meetings.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Callum the Huntsman sits by his hearth, brooding. Through his cabin window, in the distance, the gilded towers and turrets of the Royal Palace rise gleaming, their flags fluttering in the warm spring breeze. From the stone walls and oak rafters of his cabin hang the tools of his trade: bows and arrows, axes and knives, skins and heads of deer and rabbits.Callum broods. And the object of his contemplation is Snow White. Since he waved her off towards the Great Forest, he has been unable to forget her. In his mind’s eye he sees her smile, gracious and winning, filling the space with light and joy: helplessly, he smiles back at his imagined Princess, before reality intrudes on his fantasy and pulls him back to the present. “Damn,” he mutters. “Will ye be all right, Princess?”Soon he is remembering again the more carefree times, before the good King died and his evil widow came to the Throne. He remembers watching from the edge of the Palace courtyard as the Princess played in the gardens, fashioning daisy chains on the lawn, playing pooh-sticks on the bridge, giggling and laughing and singing with her animal friends as they chattered and chirruped around her. He had so wanted to join her, to hear her funny priggish royal voice speak to him, ask him to join in. He imagines her squeaking at him, “I say, young man, would you mind awfully fetching me that stick from the stream, there’s a good fellow…” But that could never have been, for, as she never tired of singing, someday her Prince would come. And a mere Palace servant such as he must accept his lot in life.But now he remembers her at their last encounter, on a daffodil-strewn hillock in the woods, grinning cheekily at him as her pink virgin cunt gleamed and glistened, her fingers squelching into that warm bubbling space between her outer lips, her intact maidenhood teasing, stretching, tantalising. Mindlessly, Callum pops open the buttons on his trousers and releases his penis – already stiff and throbbing at the thought of the lovely Princess. “Oh, Snow White,” he moans, as he begins to stroke his shaft, slowly but firmly, and the image of her glistening cunt continues to fill his mind’s eye. And then he remembers her anus, stretched open by her delicate fingers into a gorgeous gape, the sunlight glimmering off the interior of her rectal cavity, as her pinched royal voice calls out, “I swear to you, my Rus Escort İzmir Royal Cuntsman, that the next time we meet, you may fuck the Royal Arse!”“Fuck the Royal Arse,” echoes Callum to himself under his breath, “fuck the Royal Arse – oh Princess, you are joy and light and beauty! Forgive me…” His cock explodes, semen squirting desperately from his glans and spattering over his deerskin rug.He surveys the mess, dissatisfied. That was pleasurable, to be sure, he thinks to himself, but not so pleasurable as to compensate for the lack of her. “God, keep her safe!” he mutters. “And may the time come when this accursed Queen is gone, and Snow White can render goodness and joy to this Kingdom once more…”~“Someday my Prince will come,” warbles Snow White, as she stands at the sink in her Cottage washing up. It is a fine sunny morning, and her forest friends are gathered at the kitchen window to hear her sing and chat, and to admire her winsome beauty.“What fun I am having here!” exclaims the Princess to her friends. “I am so glad you found this place for me, or, good heavens, how ever would I have survived in that Forest all alone!” The animals nod and bow.“Of course, I really must continue my journey to the Far Kingdom, where I will be completely safe. But I’m sure a couple of nights in this Cottage can’t hurt, can they? I mean, those Magic Dildos are quite the bonus, aren’t they?” she giggles. “Shame they disappear at dawn – or I am quite sure I would spend the whole day getting fucked, as well as all night!” She yawns. “Oh see – I am quite worn out! And won’t it be jolly when I’m no longer a virgin, and they can fuck my cunt as well!” She giggles, and her friends laugh and gambol about sympathetically. “I do declare, though, it’s going to be jolly difficult finding a Prince to merry out here in the woods, so I suppose I’ll just have to get used to sticking large objects up my bottom instead, until I make it to the Far – ohhh!!!”Snow White stops in shock, for suddenly, outside her window, there appears an unknown woman, tall, dark-haired, with a stern but handsome air, wearing a long black cloak and carrying a large wicker panier. “Good morning, fair maid,” intones the woman in a deep velvety voice.“Oh!” gasps the Princess. “Who are you? I didn’t know anyone else lived out here in the woods – apart from the Seven Dildos, izmir otele gelen escort of course. Are you one of their friends…?” She notices that all her animal friends seem to have suddenly disappeared – but thinks nothing of it.“I am a Magician,” says the woman, her voice deep and seductive, “a Sorceress wishing to share my pleasure-bringing magic with you poor and painful peasantry. See what beauteous wares I can offer you!” She removes the checked cloth covering her basket to reveal a gleaming pile of fresh fruit: apples, bananas, peaches, plums, and deep red raspberries glistening with morning dew. “Would you like some?” she leers.“Oh, they do look lovely,” smiles Snow White. “But you know, I am hardly ‘poor and painful’: I am a Princess on the run, actually. And I never carry silver or gold; I rely on my court minions to provide such things – and there aren’t any of them here now. So I couldn’t possibly pay you,” she explains earnestly. “What’s more, this house belongs to the Seven Dildos – and they only come out at night…”“Oh, that is no obstacle,” chuckles the woman warmly. “I am happy to let you try some of my magic wares free of charge. See, for example, this plum: doesn’t it look delicious?” She waves the fruit before Show White’s eyes and, indeed, it does seem irresistible: soft, juicy, gleaming, with an intoxicating perfume which fills the Princess’ nostrils.“Ohhhh,” moans Snow White, “that smells jolly nice!” Instinctively, she parts her soft red lips, allowing the Sorceress to reach in through the kitchen window and gently stroke them with the deep purple surface of the plum. Her mouth begins to water, and the growing dampness on her lips makes the plum gleam and glisten yet more. The Sorceress applies gentle pressure to the enchanted fruit, and deep red juice flows onto Snow White’s lips, dribbling down her chin.“Oh, I say,” pants Snow White. “That is utterly divine!” She extends her tongue, parting her lips to squeeze harder, so that the whole fruit bursts and smears over her lips, mouth and chin, juice dripping onto her dress. “Oh, but what a mess I have made of my clothes. And I’ve no lady-in-waiting here to clean it for me! Whatever shall I do?”“Never mind your dress,” intones the Sorceress. “Leave it where it falls, and come out here to me,” she chants. “After all, wouldn’t you like Buca escort bayan some more…?”~A loud series of knocks wakens Callum from his post-onanic reverie. “Come in!” he calls, hastily stuffing his softening penis back into his trousers – only to find his cabin door flung open to reveal a detachment of guards, led by none other than the Captain of the Palace Guard Sir John de Thomas. “Captain, Sir!” he exclaims, standing to attention and saluting. His fly is still unbuttoned.“I am sorry, Callum,” frowns the Captain, his eyes darting briefly from the open fly down to the freshly soiled deerskin rug and back to the Huntman’s face, “but I am under orders from the Queen to arrest you, on charges of attempting to deceive the Crown. You must come with me at once, to the Dungeons.”~Snow White stands naked on the grass before the Cottage of the Seven Dildos, plum juice smeared on her face and dripping off her chin onto her full breasts. “Oh, truly you are beautiful, Princess,” pants the Sorceress under her breath. “The Mirror was right.”“Mirror?” asks Snow White in bewilderment, as she feels her lips and nipples tingle with desire.The Sorceress waves the question away with her hand. “Never mind!” she chuckles. “Look instead at this!” She holds up a peach: glowing in the sunlight, its scent is rich, sweet and powerful – and the Princess wants it, desires it, needs it.“Give it me!” trembles Snow White, parting her lips wide even as she reaches for the soft fruit with her hand. The Sorceress lets the ripe peach drop into Snow White’s delicate pale palm. The Princess squeezes it, feels the juice run down her arm, then plasters it over her face and breasts, before reaching down to rub the soft yellow flesh into her vulva. “Good Lord!” she cries, as unalloyed pleasure takes hold of her whole being, “Gratias agimus tibi propter labia maiora tua!” she squeals, pressing peach-flesh into her tits and cunt and collapsing to her knees in magical ecstasy.The Sorceress laughs with delight. She casts her cloak off to reveal her naked body – hair black, skin pale, lips red as the rose, but still magically unrecognisable by the Princess. Her breasts are full on her slender body – but the girl’s attention is drawn to the long, thick, stiff penis now bulging from the Sorceress’ crotch: throbbing, tumescent, powerful. “O Sorceress, O Magician,” she gasps, pointing to the magic futa-cock, already dripping with translucent pre-cum, “I didn’t know that you could… you could… ohhh…” Snow White’s sentence disintegrates into a moan of desire as, continuing to rub her nectar-sweetened clit and paw at her own fruit-spattered breasts, she shuffles forward on her knees, lips parted, tongue drooling.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

My wife Denise and I have lived in the Dallas suburbs for the past fifteen years, since graduating from college and moving here for jobs. We met at UT in Austin in our junior year and got married during the summer before our senior year. Our marriage at such a young age was the result of Denise getting pregnant soon after we started dating, and our daughter Danielle was born in the fall after our wedding.Our friends and family call her Dani for short, and she is now sixteen years old and a junior in high school. We tried to have more kids, but it seemed that Denise was not able to conceive again after Dani’s birth. Dani is a beautiful girl, and the spitting image of Denise.Denise and I were thirty-seven years old at the time of this story, and we stayed in great shape by working out regularly at a health club only about ten minutes from our home. With our busy schedules we don’t always work out together, but we try to as much as possible. I was at the club alone one evening after work and was getting ready to do my normal reps in the weight room.I had just laid back on the bench to do some presses when a black guy came into the room and asked, “Hey, would you like me to spot you on the bench? It would be a lot safer if we worked out together. I usually exercise with my friend, Jeremy, but he couldn’t make it tonight. By the way, my name is Marcus, and I have seen you and your pretty wife in the club many times.”I also recognized Marcus from previous visits to the club over the past year. He is a handsome guy who looks to be about thirty-two years old, about six feet three inches tall and probably weighs two hundred and ten pounds. His friend, Jeremy is also black and about the same size. I could tell from the way his tight t-shirt and spandex workout shorts fit him that he works out a lot and is very muscular.So I replied, “Hi, Marcus, my name is Ed, and it’s nice to finally meet you after seeing you here so often. It would be a lot safer to spot one another, especially on the bench, so I’d like to workout with you.”Marcus came over to spot me and I began my workout. When I looked back I saw that his crotch was only inches from my face and I couldn’t help but notice the huge bulges in his tight shorts. I saw his thick, soft cock running down one leg, and his big balls hanging down the other side. I had never paid any attention to other men’s genitals before, but those impressive bulges really got my attention. As we continued our workout, it seemed like his bulges were always in my view. And if I didn’t know better, I would have thought he was displaying himself to me on purpose.After we finished lifting I headed to the sauna to enjoy the wet heat and let it relax my muscles. I had no sooner sat on the bench on the first level when Marcus came in and sat on the level behind and above me and a little to the left of where I was sitting. We were both totally nude and sitting on towels and idly chatted about our workout, the weather, and other mundane things.When I turned around to talk to him, I noticed that he had his legs spread wide open and turned slightly towards me. And there were his big cock and balls hanging down on his towel only two feet from me and at face level.His soft meat must have been at least seven inches long and a little bigger around than a toilet paper tube, or about six inches. I couldn’t help staring at him although I tried to hide it. I also had to wonder how big his cock is when it’s hard. His balls looked to be the size of small plums, and they hung down in his dark, hairy scrotum as far as his cock was hanging. Exposing himself so blantantly could have been innocent, but I still had to wonder if he was somehow trying to entice me to do something.Then we went to the open showers, and he stood at the shower head right next to mine. He bent over in front of me to wash his legs, and I saw his cock and balls hanging down between his legs from behind, and a very long and thick perineum above his balls. I probably stared at him too much because at one point I came out of my daze and saw him looking back at me with a smile on his face as I watched him. However, nothing was said, and Marcus left the shower izmir rus escort first and I followed a few minutes later.I wrapped my towel around my waist and headed back to my locker. But as I turned onto my row, I noticed an open locker and there was what looked like a full-sized calendar sitting on the bench. I glanced at it as I walked by and noticed on the top half a very tasteful black and white photo of a large black man with a petite, blonde white woman. They were clothed in skimpy bathing suits and posed in a mildly seductive way. I really wasn’t thinking when I reached down and turned a few of the pages and saw several more similar pictures.But then I was startled when I heard someone say, “Well, Ed, do you like what you see?”I looked up and saw Marcus standing there, still nude with his toiletries in his hand. He had just come back from the sink area and caught me looking at his pictures. I replied, “Sorry, Marcus, I didn’t mean to snoop at your stuff like that. It’s just that the calendar and those pictures caught my eye when I walked by. Sorry for invading your privacy, man.”Marcus laughed and said, “Hey, no problem, Ed. The truth is that I wanted to see if you have any interest in those pictures. And since you do, I’d like to talk with you about something. You see, my friend, Jeremy, and I, and another friend named Kendall have started a small photography business named ‘The Black-On-White Photo Studio’. We just involved in the business in the evenings and on weekends and are just barely covering our costs on the photos right now. But we are also starting to produce videos.”I said, “First of all, thanks for being understanding about my snooping. But what does your venture have to do with me?”Marcus continued, “The name of our business is meant to convey several meanings. We do some color photos, but our specialty is black and white because we can create some very artistic effects in that medium, as you saw on that calendar. But we also specialize in doing photos of petite white women with large black men. There seems to be a good market for those types of photos these days.””We’re looking for the contrasts in both size and color. So, we’re always on the lookout for white couples who want to model for us. We want the wife to be petite, in shape, pretty, and naturally blonde. You and Denise look to be in your mid-to-late-thirties, the perfect age for our customers’ tastes.”It was obvious why Marcus wanted Denise to model for them. She is five feet three inches tall and weighs one hundred and ten pounds. Her hair is also naturally blonde, and her eyes are sparkling blue. Even better, her D-cup breasts look huge on her small frame. Her ass is a perfect heart shape, and the package is enhanced even more by her flawless, smooth white skin.My only question was why I should be involved, and I asked, “Why do you want the husband involved if the pictures are of the wife?”Marcus replied, “We like the husbands to be involved to avoid any chance that we three black men will be accused of trying to take advantage of pretty white women. We also like the husband to be handsome and in decent shape, so we can include him in some of the photos. Part of our method is also looking for the contrast of the husband being smaller than the black models. Jeremy and I took an interest in you and your wife when we saw you at the club.”I laughed and said, “That’s pretty funny thinking that Denise and I would be models for you guys.”Marcus took a more serious tone and said, “You must be kidding. If you don’t mind me saying so, Denise is a beautiful woman with a great body and her hair looks like it’s naturally blonde. And you are a nice looking, in-shape, average-sized guy. You’d make the perfect couple for our photo shoots.”I wasn’t totally fooled by his flattery, but it still made me feel good hearing nice things about Denise and myself. I kept thinking about Marcus’ comments about wanting the white couples to be small in comparison to the black men. Something in the back of my mind was telling me there was more to his story.But before I could formulate my next question, Marcus spoke up and said, “I want izmir otele gelen escort bayan to be perfectly honest with you about something. Most of the white couples we photograph just want to do the G-rated pictures like you saw in the calendar. But we also do some provocative poses if the couple agrees to it. So, the black-on-white label actually has a triple meaning and has sexual connotations as well.”I was getting very curious and said, “Go ahead and tell me more, Marcus.”He continued, “There are many stories and pictures on the internet portraying some white men and women being sexually attracted to big, black men. And while it may not be a universally true stereotype, we’ve met many white couples who feel that way. We are trying to make our business a financial success, and we get paid much more for photos of those sexually suggestive situations. Please don’t get angry with me for saying this, but you would be perfect in those types of photos.”You’re a nice looking normal guy, who I noticed in the shower also happens to have an average-sized dick. I saw you staring at my big cock while we were lifting, and then in the sauna and shower. You must see the contrast in our cock sizes, and you haven’t even seen mine hard yet. The interest I saw in your face when you were looking at my cock and balls would come through as you being very attracted to my cock in the photographs and would sell.”I was getting irritated being characterized that way by Marcus and said, “Look, Marcus, I consider myself to be a normal, macho guy who just loves pussy, and I really didn’t mean to stare at your cock. It’s just that I’ve never seen one that big close up, and it was somehow interesting to me. That doesn’t mean that I would want to be submissive to black men. And besides, it seemed to me that you were purposely showing me your cock.”Marcus responded, “I believe you when you say you feel like a normal macho guy, but trust me, I’ve seen that look before. You might have more interest in black men than you know or are willing to admit. But I will admit that I was baiting you by purposely showing you my cock. That was just my way of seeing if you would have any interest in doing the more-provocative photo shoots. Why don’t you think about it and also ask Denise if she has any interest?”I was still irritated by what Marcus was saying, yet at the same time I was strangely attracted to his masculinity. In the back of my mind I wanted to know what his hard cock looks like. I decided to show interest for the time being, at least until I could determine how Denise felt about being a model for them. I thought there was little chance that she would agree to model for Marcus and his friends at that stage in our lives. But since she modeled for some of the art classes in college, it was at least worth asking. I also wasn’t sure how she would feel about the whole black-on-white dynamic.One other aspect of that was interesting. One of Denise’s friends from college told me confidentially one time, when we were all drunk at a party, that Denise had a serious relationship with a black guy in college before I met her. I really didn’t believe her, and Denise had never mentioned that to me. I never mentioned it to her because I make it a point not to pry into her past unless she willingly shares it. It never seemed like a big deal to me anyway.I thought it might be very revealing to see how she felt about doing a photo shoot with three big black guys. So, I glanced down and took one more look at Marcus’ soft cock and balls and said, “Okay, Marcus, I’ll talk to Denise about this, but can’t make any promises. And even if she did agree to the G-rated photos, I seriously doubt that she would go any farther. And she definitely wouldn’t be involved in any sexual situations. But for now, I’ll only tell her about the G-rated photos anyway.”Marcus smiled and said, “Oh that’s great, Ed, and I couldn’t have hoped for more from this first discussion. Here’s my card. If you and Denise decide to meet with us, our studio is on Kendall’s property at the edge of town, about twenty minutes from here in normal traffic. He Escort Buca has ten acres of land with a nice home and an old barn that has been completely refurbished on the inside to accommodate three studios and some guest rooms. The high ceilings are perfect for studio lighting.”Denise and I got good jobs right out of college and were doing very well financially, at least until the past year. Denise works in sales, and commissions were a big part of her income. The poor economy had hit her company very hard, and her income was only half what it had been in the previous years. And all that came at a time when we were trying to save for Dani’s college expenses.So, I asked, “Do you compensate the models for their time?”Marcus replied, “Yes, we do compensate the models, but only for the more-provocative photos that sell for more money. Just give me a call if you’re interested and we can arrange to meet you guys at the studio.”When I got home that night I told Denise about most of my discussion with Marcus. I just left out the part about some couples doing provocative photos. There was no need to bring that up then and take a chance of her turning the whole thing down. I was still curious enough to at least want to check it out, so I really played up the flattery about how beautiful Marcus thought she is.When I was finished she asked, “So how old are those men anyway? And did they say anything about paying us for this. As you well know, my commissions at work have really suffered in this bad economy, and it would help a lot if we could make something for our efforts. But it’s very flattering that they are actually trying to recruit us for our good looks.”I tried to answer her question as honestly as possible, while still being vague about the more-provocative photos and replied, “Marcus and Jeremy look to be about thirty-two years old, and I’m assuming that Kendall is too. As far as money is concerned, they probably won’t pay anything for the normal calendar photos. But there could be a chance to make some money if we model for some other photos that sell for more money.”She replied, “Well, when I was modeling for the art classes in college, I got paid a little bit for the normal sessions. But we can check it out and make our decision after I meet them. It might be fun to do some modeling again anyway. Any extra money we can make will help us build up Dani’s college fund.”Then I said, “Okay, I’ll give Marcus a call and see when they want us to stop by.”I was surprised that Denise agreed so easily to visit Marcus and his friends at the studio. She didn’t even ask about what kind of photos would sell for more money. The flattery and the chance to model again sure seemed to get her attention. I called Marcus and let him know that we wanted to visit the studio at his next convenience. He was obviously pleased and invited us to come out to the studio the following evening.We showed up at the studio at 7:30 pm the next night, and Marcus, Jeremy and Kendall greeted us warmly. Denise was wearing a pair of tight shorts and a tube top, and she really looked hot. They offered us some mixed drinks, which we accepted, and then began a tour of their studios. Their facility is very nicely, yet simply appointed. The two studios used for black and white photo shoots have a variety of benches, couches, chairs, and padded platforms, some of which I recognized from the calendar that I saw at the gym.They only briefly opened the door to the third studio, which they said is used for making videos. Denise wasn’t paying that much attention when Marcus quickly opened and then closed that door. But I saw that the room is divided into two sections. It’s arranged to look like a hotel room with a bed on one side, and a typical home bedroom on the other. That seemed a little suspicious to me, but I decided not to ask Marcus about it or mention it to Denise.Those three men paid a lot of attention to Denise on our tour and took every opportunity to compliment her on her looks. I could tell that they were having the desired effect, because Denise was openly flirting with them. By the end of the tour, they were like old friends. We then sat around a small table in one of the studios while Marcus showed us some of their calendars and other examples of their work. Denise took great interest in the artistic beauty of their work and complimented them on their mastery of the black and white format, and the contrast of the models’ size and color. But then she had a question for them.

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I had a few errands in town and I took care of those before going back home. I was missing Mary already. It had been a long time since I felt this way about another woman before. It wasn’t just the sex; exciting as it was. She had a warmth about her as well. I knew that I had to curtail those feelings. I had been down that road before with another married woman that I had been fucking on a regular basis. She was beginning to feel the same way and after a good heart to heart one afternoon we agreed to end it. There were children involved as well as a large family business. It would have been messy for her to leave him for another man and there was the fact that we may not have lasted. Affairs are one thing, but uprooting your life for another relationship can have disastrous consequences. I settled down to some research on cuckolding. I was amazed at the number of websites dedicated to it. I was also amazed at the number of dating sites dedicated to it as well. I browsed some of them and was astounded at the number of men who were looking for other males to share their wives or girlfriends with. Of course, I was aware that many of them may not be genuine; some were obviously fantasists and some fakes but there would be many of them who were genuine. In some ways it was frightening. As I started to get into the psyche of those males I began to realize that most of them genuinely loved their wives; worshipped them in fact, but there was some fatal flaw inside that made them want to share. It seemed to be a form of masochism. They loved their wives; suffered the extreme pains of jealousy and yet got some form Escort Karşıyaka of sexual excitement from seeing their wives make love with other men. I found it hard to understand but I could now see things through Jim’s eyes. He loved Mary, that was obvious, but he had got enjoyment from me fucking her. I also began to wonder just how far this humiliation would take him. There were some extremes in the humiliation of the cuckold. Some husbands liked to dress up in women’s clothing while their wives were with another man; some liked to be beaten up by the other man and others liked to be made to do humiliating things. I could never imagine letting another man suck my cock but to be made hard by the husband just before entry his wife? I could not be sure. I was just starting to get into when my mobile rang; it was Ruth, a married woman I had picked up in one of the town’s hotels a couple of months ago. She was attending a lecture in one their conference suites there and I was there to meet with some potential clients. My meetings had finished and I went to the bar to get a drink before heading home. I spotted her waiting at the bar. It was a busy evening. I noticed a couple of guys trying to hit on her and she was trying to avoid them. I couldn’t blame the guys since she was attractive, even if she came across as a little aloof. She had a nice figure as well but her skirt length looked a bit old fashioned. I edged up close to her and managed to attract the barmaid’s attention before she did. As she focused on me I pointed to the woman and said, “This young lady was here bornova escort before me.” I saw the smile come to her face and she quietly thanked me before ordering a white wine spritzer then she turned to me and asked me what I wanted, “You might have to wait awhile before you get served,” she told me. I thanked her and asked for a red wine but I already had my wallet out and I insisted that she let me pay. We found a table and sat together; chatted; had dinner and then I went with her up to her room. She had never done anything like this before but on that night she was at a vulnerable stage. She was tired of getting passed over for promotion by her less qualified male colleagues and she and her husband were going through a bad patch. That night she wanted to forget that she was a wife, mother, homemaker and employee; Ruth wanted to be herself. We fucked long and hard into the night. Three weeks later there was another conference and she rang me. We fucked long and hard into the night once again and parted next morning with the promise of more things to come.I lifted my mobile to my ear with anticipation. “I will be in town on Tuesday,” she said, “another conference.” “Mmmmm,” I murmured. “Well actually that’s a lie,” she confessed, “I have told my husband that, but I am having a couple of days off work.” “Be careful, Ruth, that he doesn’t catch you out,” I told her. “He won’t even bother to check,” she said. “So,” I said, “You want…?” “Fucking.” She said quietly. I could almost see the shy look on her face. “You won’t be wearing tights this time will you?” üçyol escort bayan I asked her. “You know what happened last time!” I was referring to how had I struggled to pull them down and in the end I got exasperated and just pushed up her skirt and ripped them from her. She gasped but I saw that she enjoyed it. I ripped off her panties as well, tore them in half. She groaned. I grabbed her by the wrists and held her hands down above her head and fucked her. She orgasmed time and time again. Afterwards she told me it was the best fuck she had ever had. “And what will happen if I do wear tights?” she asked me. “I will punish you,” I told her. “How…how will you punish me?” I heard her say breathlessly. “I will spank you,” I told her, “hard!” There was silence. “Could I stay…could I stay with you instead of the hotel, please?” “It will cost you,” I told her. I could hear her heavy breathing. “What will it cost me?” “You will be treated like a whore,” I told her. I could hear her sigh. “Where are you?” I asked her. “On my bed,” she replied. “He’s out shopping with the girls.” “What are you wearing?” “Jeans, top,” she responded, “bra and pants.” “Take down your jeans.” I told her. I heard her in the background taking them down. “Done,” she said. “Now your panties,” I told her. Once again I heard her removing clothes. “Now play with yourself Ruth,” I told her, “I want to hear you cum. I want you to think about what I am going to do to you on Tuesday night, you filthy little whore.” I heard her gasp and then I heard her breathing heavy. I could imagine her lying there frantically rubbing her clitty and I could hear not just her breathing getting heavier but also her moans getting louder and louder. “That’s it Ruth,” I said softly, “I’m going to strip you and spank you hard and then fuck you like the whore you really are.” Her cries were that loud I had to hold the phone away from me.

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