January 31, 2007
This is a continuing story of Julia’s Lovers (that is in the Mature section). To get the full story, one should read the original.
A Ladies Pleasant Debacle
“Hello Al, how is it hanging lover?”
“Julia, you can be such an embarrassment. What’s up sweetheart?”
“I know you are right now, however I am calling for some assistance with a small problem! Let me know when you can make it over here.”
“Are you now labeling me Mr. Small because of my tool? Regardless, when you call you know I will come. How does 5 o’clock tonight sound, I am ready willing and able!”
“Knock it off wild man, I will introduce you to the small problem, that may take your brain instead of your putz lover! So we shall see you then.”
“You now you have my curiosity, are you talking about Sara? If you are, I will have to bring an oxygen tank, just in case.”
“Easy Al, Sara may be in and out, but she is not the focus of this get together. To be honest 4 o’clock sounds better because some constructive time will be spent befo
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January 31, 2007
Matt Simmons stood by Mrs. Hammond, holding her hand as her husband’s coffin was lowered into its rain filled resting-place. Matt held her sobbing body close as the rain poured down on the crying mourners. He had been killed in a horrible car accident only 3 days ago. Matt could feel Mrs. Hammond’s body shaking as he held her delicate, mature hand. Matt and Mrs. Hammond had always been very good friends and the last 3 days had brought them even closer.
Mr. Hammond had been a very respected college professor at the local college. His students loved him more than any other professors. He and Mrs. Hammond had been married for 30 years. She had depended on him for everything. He did the checkbook, paid the bills and any other things that needed tended to.
“What am I going to do, Matthew?” Mrs. Hammond sobbed on Matt’s strong shoulder. “He did everything for me.” She sobbed wrapping her arms around his back. She didn’t care what any of the other mourner’s thought she needed to hug a man.
Matt wiped a
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January 31, 2007
Misty lie in bed, her hand between her long legs with two of her fingers deep in her steaming pussy. She moved them in and out as fast as she could go. Her other hand toyed with her firm breasts and nipples. She needed to cum so bad every inch of her body was on fire. She had only been with one man in her young life and he didn’t know the first thing about pleasing a girl.
“Please, cum!” she moaned as her hand began to tire. She’d been fingering herself for close to an hour with no sign on an orgasm. “Oh please, cum, cum!” she moaned again bursting in tears and rolled on her side with her fingers still deep in her lonely pussy. “Why can’t I ever cum?” she asked herself looking at the alarm clock next to her bed. “Shit!” she yelled kicking off the satin sheet and headed to the shower.
Later that morning, Misty made her way to the campus job board hoping to find a better job than what she had. Being a waitress at the student center didn’t pay enough, she needed a better place to live and more clot
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January 31, 2007
Becky and I work for the same company, but in different departments. Both of us had worked our way up the ladder from seasonal employees to full time management. Becky stood about 5′-3″ and was a raven haired BBW. She had a nice big ass, and her tits were big, but not huge. Becky wore her hair shoulder length and sometimes would get it cut in one of those “Dorothy Hamil” style haircuts that I liked. Her skin was olive tone, and she would really get dark in the summer. Even though she was ten years my senior, I thought she looked sexy in the summer with her dark skin and raven hair. I jerked off more than once in the shower to my fantasy of pleasuring her body.
One Thursday night, a group of us from work decided to celebrate several birthdays occurring that month at our favorite hangout. Since it was summer, Becky was dressed in a sleeveless summer blouse and a khaki skirt. Becky was one of the birthday people and she was drinking mixed drinks instead of her usual beer. A couple of hours and several drink
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January 30, 2007
A Letter To An Older Man… That Is HARD To Put Down
I woke up very hot this morning… After a night of tossing and turning… A long night for a young 19 year old… The heat was unbearable… My skin was slicked w/ the humidity… I slept in my new red Victoria’s Secret silk shorts and spaghetti strap tank top… Every turn, every toss the silk rubbed against my nipples… Maybe that also contributed to my sleepless night… I woke up with thoughts of you on my mind… And how I could fulfill your request of a letter… I wanted something real… Something not just made up in my fantasies…
I thought this may be the best way I can give you that… So far… Soon it’ll go a little further… I go into the bathroom with our big old tub… I grab my bubble bath… And run the water… I open the cap and smell… I love this smell Victoria’s Secret love spell… Perfect scent to lie in while thinking of my perfect older man… You… I smile and remember the letter you had written me in the beginning..
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January 30, 2007
I was married to a great woman who eventually decided that life abroad without me was preferable to a life here with me. We split up 12 years after taking our vows, but it was long enough for us to have had a child. Our daughter Sarah. It wasn’t an ugly break up and we never fought over or through our daughter. It was amicable as far as divorces go, and we shared custody. Our daughter went to school in Europe while living with her mother, and spent most of the holidays with me.
I got to keep the big house with my ex having moved away so I had a lot of spare space. It came in handy when entertaining out of town clients who didn’t want the corporate feel of a hotel. The four rooms on the second floor were converted into bedrooms, each with their own bath. One was permanently my daughter’s. The main floor was more or less for show. I put in a Pinball machine and a pool table, entertainment centre and full bar. It was fun for the clients and relaxing for me after long days at the office. The backyard had an
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January 29, 2007
Angry
Yes, I’m angry. Angry at myself because I can’t resist giving in to that dominate lust I experienced after years. It’s that strong, that common sense is overpowered by the urge. Weekly now my ugly, fat old black body is the possessing of a young white stranger with a horny obsessing for it. I think it’s an unhealthy desire and also cannot believe this young white man can find some attraction in it. And I give in to his sick desire, because I’m too weak to put an end to this. Let me explain:
I am a fat black old woman in her sixties, always being single because nobody ever wanted me. Life can be so unfair sometimes. I’ve always been fat, better said heavily overweight. I’m a kind of ugly, very tall and never attract eyes of men. I’m really an old fat, very big black woman, near 325 pounds.
When I was around twenty and already very fat, I let me seduce me by a horny boy. I thought he liked me as a person but soon found out he was just curious about my big fat body. He deflowered me against the
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January 29, 2007
Serena and I were driving north from the Kill Devil Hills and the Wright Brother’s Monument through Kitty Hawk on the way to Norfolk. The photo shoot at the monument had been successful and I must admit a bit surprising. Unfortunately, the impending rain stopped us from getting all the shots we needed. We were able to get some nice shots at sunrise, just before the sun slipped into the clouds.
Passing through Kitty Hawk and approaching the Wright Memorial Bridge the rain started, first just a few large drops randomly striking the windshield, then a bit heavier. We were able to get across the bridge before it got too heavy, but soon, we were creeping along in some steady downpours. Soon it got so bad I decided we better stop.
“Serena, I think I’m going to pull off the road as soon as I find a place to stop. We’re not in a hurry and there’s no need taking any chances in this rain,” I said loudly so she could hear me over the sound of the rain.
“The Cotton Gin is not too far ahead, they have plenty of
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January 29, 2007
Christmas can be a lonely time of the year especially when you are 4,000 miles from home without your wife and children. I was 21 and in Germany…lonely, miserable, and knowing that this would be a Christmas I would want more than anything else to forget.
I was a soldier and was living in the barracks, but I had a job that took me out into the Germany of the German people. Hans worked for a German household goods shipping company and I was a military customs inspector so we saw each other almost every day, usually at the local Gasthaus drinking our lunch which normally consisted of Steinhaeger and good strong German lager beer. He was learning English from me and was teaching me the German language. Frequently I was a visitor in his house though I seldom, if ever, spent the night. The wife occasionally stared at my crotch, but I was really there to talk and joke with her husband, figuring she was probably off-limits to an American GI like me.
Ute was no femme fatale, but she was a nice, pleasant woman who
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January 29, 2007
A fat black old woman story: I should have known better.
Yes, I should have known better going into that dark, desolate alley by evening, just to take a shortcut home. It was stupid because the save way home was just a 10 minutes longer walk. But sometimes I don’t understand myself and do such stupid things like this. And this is the result, an fat black woman of 63, standing here with mixed emotions in that dark, desolate alley, her blouse unbuttoned, her large boobs hanging out of her big bra, her skirt around her ankles, her underpants torn and sperm of two horny young white men dripping out of her fat black pussy. And what’s more shaming was my behaviour in this. Let me tell you about it.
I have a good life. Being a widow for 14 years I managed, after my husband passed away, to pick up life again. For a few years I’m retired now and enjoyed the days because I’m busy enough with my hobbies. What’s disastrous for my weight is my cooking hobby; I’m fond of cooking and tried every recipe of the many c
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